


dream a little dream

by Lilafly



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dreamwalking, F/M, Felinette Month 2020, Fox Félix, Félix is a little bit salty but then again who can blame him, Félix redemption, Gen, Guardian Marinette, Hawkmoth Defeat, Identity Reveal, Lila Rossi Lies, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Lila takedown, Marinette is SCEPTICAL, Marinette tries to get over Adrien, Moving On, Mysteries, Mystery solving, Post Season 3, Slow Burn, Sort of at least, adventures with Felinette!, ambiguous Felinette relationship, and a cat, and a little bit of mourning, can be platonic can be romantic, especially NO Adrien bashing or salt, get ready for dream shenanigans, give the poor girl a BREAK, loosely based on the Silver Trilogy by Kerstin Gier, no character bashing!, not New York Special compliant, not snapping my fingers here and making him good, obviously, oh and there's a hamster too, realistic redemption, some LadyNoir feels snuck in there too somehow, surprise! Félix actually has friends!, therapy is healthy!, this is a story about acceptance and learning from one's mistakes!, this is mostly based on canon with just a sprinkle of an AU mixed in, you decide what you want to interpret into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 85,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilafly/pseuds/Lilafly
Summary: Mysterious antique doors with four locks. Neverending corridors. A very persistent black cat. Yes, Marinette’s dreams have definitely gone off the rails lately. Not as weird as some Akumas, but up there. Especially the one where she follows Félix through an unlocked door into a coffee shop and gets introduced to his friends.When she coincidentally gets a glance at the contacts on Félix's phone the next day and recognises the same people from her dream, she starts to get suspicious. Especially when he unexpectantly pulls her aside to ask about something that he couldn’t possibly have known about…unless he actually had beeninher dream.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Félix Graham de Vanily, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Félix Graham de Vanily
Comments: 127
Kudos: 338





	1. Purrito

**Author's Note:**

  * For [132364](https://archiveofourown.org/users/132364/gifts).



> > You're an amazing friend, Zai, and I hope you'll enjoy the little cameo of your hamster Hammy in this. The floof orb deserves his 15 minutes of fame! 🐹🧡
> 
> * * *
> 
> Welcome everyone who doesn't know me yet! 💛 For those who already know me, probably from Spellbound: you know what you signed up for! C: 💕  
> A few things up straight before we begin:
> 
>   * Read the tags!
>   * This piece centres on the dynamic of Marinette and Félix (the canon one), but the relationship is ambiguous. If you prefer platonic Felinette you can read it as such. If you're here for romantic Felinette, then I left room for interpretation for that as well!
>   * I am focusing very hard on making Félix's redemption as _realistic_ as at all possible, based on everything that has been shown in canon. There are no changes, no excuses, just living with the consequences and learning from them.
>   * NO Adrien salt or bashing! Those who read Spellbound know that I love the kitten and I don't have it in my heart to write anything bad about him. So, no worries! The sunshine child will stay unharmed! ❤️
>   * The chapter titles are the prompts from this year's Felinette Month and some are just _very_ loosely connected to the content of the chapters while others fit better.
>   * This story is loosely based on the "Silver Trilogy" by Kerstin Gier. I only took the mechanics of the dreamwalking from it and ran, and I very much recommend the books!
>   * I will upload a new chapter daily, or will at least try my darn best to do so!
> 

> 
> Honestly, after not uploading a new story for over a year this is very exciting and anxiety-inducing. And also, after writing a sibling-like Felinette dynamic this entire time in Spellbound, the changed dynamic in this story is somewhat of a challenge, but also a fun one! With all of that said, I very much hope you'll enjoy this little story of mine and stick around to its completion! 💛  
> ~ Lila 🦊

She stood in the classroom, looking around at the people in it. What was her crush from _primaire_ doing here? Wasn’t he going to another school? Oh well, she hadn’t seen him in years, might as well say ‘hello.’ Before she could get to him though, she was distracted by a wad of blankets on her desk. Actually, she realised, there were wads of blankets on _all_ of the desks. Upon closer inspection, the bundles turned out to be cats, only their cute faces sticking out. For a moment a voice in the back of her mind argued that hamsters were still her favourite animals, but she definitely couldn’t deny having a weak spot for felines as well, not in small amounts because of her partner—not that she’d ever tell him that. Swiftly, she picked up the cat on her desk and cradled it in her arms like a baby, rubbing her face against its fluffy fur and smiling when it purred. When she looked down to see what the cat looked like though, she was greeted with the iconic face of _the_ Grumpy Cat. In the back of her mind, she recognised the combination of it wrapped up in a blanket as a _purrito._ Oh, Chat would _love_ that one! She’d definitely have to bring him one of the cats, or better yet, wrap _him_ up in a blanket and call him a _purrito_. For some reason, she couldn’t stop laughing at the mental image. In fact, she laughed so hard that she dropped the cat, which rolled away in its blanket, and fell to the floor in hysterics. 

_Beep beep beep._

Luckily, her alarm clock had mercy on her, bringing her out of the bizarre dream and making her groan in annoyance for several reasons. One, even with weird dreams, she very much preferred sleeping to being awake. Two, she had apparently heard too many of Chat Noir’s puns—they even snuck their way into her subconscious nowadays. More so, her subconscious seemed to find them _hilarious_ —a fact her partner was never allowed to find out about under any circumstances!

While rolling herself out of bed with another groan-turned-yawn, she dissected the little bit of the dream she could still remember, wondering what in the world her brain had thrown together to create this absurdity. Well, it wasn’t like she had to think about it for very long, as recalling just the previous day gave her all the answers she needed.

Félix Graham De Vanily and his mother, Adrien’s cousin and aunt respectively, had moved to Paris recently and apparently Principal Damocles thought it was a good idea to put Félix into the same class as his cousin. The disadvantage to that was fairly obvious, at least when she remembered what had happened a month ago, the first time she had encountered him. The urge to deck him again had been quite strong when Madame Bustier had introduced him the previous day. She, by far, hadn’t been the only one with such thoughts, if the frowns and sometimes even hostile snarls of her classmates were any indication. Alya had even let slip a comment about how there were two unbearable blondes in their class now—of course she had meant Chloé and Félix and not Rose and, by god, _Adrien_.

 _And a brunette,_ Marinette had mentally added and concentrated hard on not glancing in Lila’s direction.

Now, in the light of the morning, Marinette frowned at her sleepy reflection in the mirror, as she recalled what Adrien had said about Félix’s situation. Apparently, Félix was still going through a rough time after his father’s death and was therefore much more malicious than he otherwise would have been. Adrien had also commented how even on the best of days, his Aunt Amélie compared Félix to a grumpy cat.

That at least explained where _that_ part of her dream had come from. The rest had most likely derived from the excessive cat puns Adrien had told during their study time at the library, which had made Marinette sigh to the heavens.

 _Why do I have_ two _guys in my life who both have a liking for cat puns?!_

The only part that still remained a mystery to her was why her _primaire_ crush had also been in her dream. Just what did her subconscious want to tell her with that? She was actually surprised how well she still remembered his face after all these years, and that she remembered him at all, considering that she had been seven at the time.

Marinette shook her head and finished getting ready. Dreams were dreams and it wouldn’t help her to think about them too much. What she _did_ need to think about was the school day in front of her. If she still counted Chloé—she mostly left everyone alone after the Miracle Queen debacle, just made the occasional snarky comment—then the count of bullies in her class was up to three now, with one being a snake no one but her and Adrien even suspected. Not that him knowing had brought her much good so far. The high road, as it turned out, was a lonely road, and it painfully reminded her of how life had been for her before she had become Ladybug: no friends to help her when a bully relentlessly came after her. Marinette couldn't understand this course of action. She knew Adrien had a lonely upbringing, but keeping silent hurt her more than she liked to admit. Meanwhile, she couldn’t completely blame him either, but every time she tried to talk to him to make him realise the error in his judgment in this situation, Lila or some other classmate cut in.

Marinette sighed. Thinking about Adrien had slowly become a hurtful pastime during the last couple of months—her anxiety over him not defending her against Lila always festering in the back of her mind, even though she knew his frankly valid reasons. Her brightly burning crush had significantly dimmed as a consequence, because feelings, after all, weren’t logical, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t just ignore the sting of her own loneliness and the helplessness that came with it. And while she did try to defend Adrien in her mind, at the end of the day, that didn’t improve her situation either. He was with Kagami now anyway and Marinette had her hands full as the new Guardian. No reason to waste time pining after someone who was taken. Still, feelings didn’t just disappear from one week to another and even when her rational mind told her to let him go and move on, her heart just couldn’t seem to do it.

When she left the bathroom and went back upstairs to her room to get her school bag and purse, she noted that she was on time for once. School would start in twenty minutes, which gave her much more wiggle room than she normally had.

Marinette frowned when she thought about what awaited her at school though: two important people to her that had broken her trust—Alya and Adrien—and, worst of all, a liar who was dead set on destroying her life. She briefly thought about Félix and, despite Adrien’s best attempts to reassure them that his cousin could be nice sometimes, dreaded the worst. He hadn’t done anything _so far_ , but she knew from personal experience that he very much had the potential to raise hell in order to get something he wanted. In that sense, she just hoped to not stand in the way between him and whatever his goal was, as she already had her hands full trying to defend herself against Lila’s _active_ threats. The _last_ thing she needed on top of everything else was for her situation to get even _more_ complicated.

She sighed and just prayed that there wouldn’t be any Akumas today.


	2. Call Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Félix's second day of school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here he is, the grumpy cat himself! I admit that this chapter might seem a little random now, but just you wait! I somehow need to establish the plot and foreshadow things, don't I? >:3c

Félix didn’t even so much as raise an eyebrow when yet another student came through the door and glared at where he was sitting. Being so early that barely anyone else was in the classroom yet, he had freely chosen the empty bench in the back as his seat, which would allow him to carefully watch his hostile classmates and analyse them. When his mother had told him he would go to the same school as Adrien, he hadn’t expected to be put in the same _class_ as him as well. Like so often, his reputation had preceded him, this time thoroughly through a fault of his own, and not a good kind of reputation either. Being malicious to his cousin had been much easier when he had still thought to never see any of those people Adrien called his friends ever again. Now, though, he’d have to learn to live with the consequences of his actions.

His gaze fell back on _Macbeth_. Usually he was more of a sonnet kind of guy, but Claude was performing _Macbeth_ in a month and Félix wanted to familiarize himself with the play again before that. Mostly to properly be able to criticize the performance afterwards, but also to give appropriate compliments when deserved.

He absentmindedly played with the keychain in his pocket as his thoughts drifted to Claude, which reminded Félix of the knocking and scratching on his door last night. It wasn’t uncommon for his…overenthusiastic friend to resort to such measures to get him to leave his safe place and _mingle_ , but _scratching_ was a little incessant, even for Claude. Whoever had been at his door had been _desperate_ to get in and he was very glad that they hadn’t managed to. At least he had been able to ignore it after a while and had gotten a sufficient amount of sleep.

“Hey Félix,” a saccharine voice, so fake that it made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end, said beside him. A hand appeared in his peripheral vision, inching closer to his pencil case. “Can I borrow a pencil from you? Mine just broke.”

With an annoyed sigh, he looked up straight into Lila’s eyes that barely concealed the maliciousness that hid within. He knew a thing or two about both hiding his intentions and acting, so he knew with absolute certainty that this girl was doing a horrible job at the latter. The fact that no one seemed to have caught on yet frankly astounded him.

“As I’m sure you are aware,” Félix said, thoroughly hiding his disdain and concentrating on sounding as pragmatic as at all possible, “this school requires the use of a tablet for class rather than handwritten notes. If you broke your pencil, you might want to look into a pencil sharpener rather than a new pencil altogether and otherwise cope with your tablet like everyone else does too.”

Besides that, he was someone who learned from his mistakes. The last time a personal belonging of his had found its way into the wrong hands, he had endured a time of absolute annoyance and, dare he say, even hardships. It had taken two weeks to get the fountain pen back from Claude.

For a brief moment, something akin to anger and frustration flashed in Lila’s eyes, an expression that would have immediately given her false act away if anyone else had bothered to pay close-enough attention. No one did, of course. He had already concluded the previous day that his new class was a level of dense he hadn’t thought possible and it robbed Félix both of patience and nerves to watch such stupidity play out in front of him. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a movie or TV show where he would have been able to change the channel or turn the TV off altogether to read a book instead. Well, he supposed he could at least _attempt_ the latter.

Suppressing an eye roll, he continued reading where he had left off. Unfortunately for him, though, Lila didn’t seem deterred by his very logical reasoning. Just as expected, since it had been glaringly obvious from the start, she wanted something else from him. He had still hoped against hope that she’d just give up after a brusque comment—most people usually did.

“I know, but I’m used to writing notes on paper from the time I was privately tutored on the movie set of ‘Lonely Flower.’ I only played a small background role without any speaking parts, and in the end they decided to cut the scenes I was in because they didn’t want the character after all, but I got to know the regisseur from the movie personally and am good friends with the lead actress!”

Félix looked up at her in disbelief, because _surely,_ she didn’t expect him to fall for _that_. One look into her eyes and a glance around the group of classmates that had gathered around to listen, he realised that she was dead-serious and believed that she would actually get away with it.

“Interesting,” Félix said, not hiding his disdain anymore. “My mother has never mentioned being friends with _you_.”

For a few seconds, one could have heard a pin drop. 

Félix had to suppress a grin at Lila’s momentary deer-in-headlights look. It vanished as soon as it appeared though to make room for fake tears and sniffles.

“I just wanted to ask you for a pencil and give you a second chance since Adrien said you could be nice.” Her whining alone would probably result in a headache later. “Why are you being so mean to me? I never did anything to you!”

And just like that, the mood of the entire classroom had changed and her _groupies_ had turned into a pack of angry hyenas that were out for his throat, yelling over each other. He got the gist of ‘I knew he was still a bully’ and ‘Why would you do this to Lila?!’ while others rushed to comfort the pitifully sniffling liar, one even going as far as to offer her a pencil.

As Félix sat there and waited for the storm to die down so he could have his peace back, Lila miraculously recovered, her tears vanishing. Putting on a face that was probably meant to look _brave_ , she _composed herself_ again.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she told the loudest of the group that were still throwing accusations at him. While she did that, she put one of her hands on the table in a move that probably looked unintentional to the ignorant eye, but which was just a little too hasty and precise to be a coincidence. She was still speaking to the group, trying to calm them down and uttering absurd reassurances, but Félix wasn’t listening anymore.

A loud slam of his hand on his copy of _Macbeth_ silenced everyone, except for the liar herself, frozen in her attempt to slide it off the table. 

“I…I just wanted to take a look. I love Shakespeare so much and could even recite _Romeo and Juliet_ by heart once. How about I check if I still can? You know, after that accident where I saved the crown prince of Denmark from getting run over by a drunk limousine driver, I lost some of my memories.”

“Well, as _tragic_ as that surely is, this is _Macbeth_ and it therefore wouldn’t help you in the slightest. And _how about_ you keep your hands to yourself? Let me remind you that taking someone’s property without consent is _theft_ and that I could have reported it.”

The irony that _he_ , of all people, said that didn’t escape him. It was fully worth it to see Lila’s enraged glare though. He was about to tune out the shouting classmates once more when he caught the eye of the only one who _wasn’t_ standing around his desk and instead sitting at her own. She grinned at the scene and seemed to draw as much malicious joy from Lila’s rage as he himself was. The moment her eyes met his though, she quickly turned around again to focus on her sketchbook. 

_Interesting._

If he recalled correctly her name was Marinette and she was the girl who had tried to confess her love to his cousin a month ago at the anniversary of his aunt’s disappearance. Well, perhaps then she was rather happy that her classmates were tearing him a new one right now. Perhaps it even was both, but he couldn’t be absolutely certain about either. In that case, he would definitely have to keep a closer eye on her to find out her real opinion on the off-chance that she really did see through Lila’s fake act. Apart from him, that would make her the only one in the class who did, which could give him some peace of mind of not being the only one with the capacity of rational thought and common sense.

It was the end of the school day when he was on his way home that he put both of his hands in his pockets while waiting at a traffic light. Instead of cold metal in his left pocket, however, he was met with only the feeling of fabric from the pocket itself. In other words: _emptiness._ He quickly pulled both pockets out to check them more thoroughly in case it had slipped in between folds, but he was again only greeted with fabric. The light turned green and he hastily stuffed his pockets back into their rightful positions, crossing the street with a wildly beating heart and the chilling realisation that Claude’s keychain was gone.


	3. Teashop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let the dream shenanigans begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we're at the point where the story starts to match the summary! Sorry that the previous two chapters seemed to not fit to the premise, but I couldn't really explain the story only based on what was in them and properly advertise this story ;w;
> 
> finally have some Felinette! c:

A bell chimed over the door when she entered the tea shop, the strong smell of herbs immediately flooding her senses. That morning, her mother had noticed that they were running low on her favourite tea and had asked Marinette to pick some up for her after school. Now, Marinette liked a warm drink as much as the next person, but her preference lay in hot chocolate or coffee rather than the teas her mother loved so much. She knew the absolute basics, like Earl Grey, or the various fruity teas she herself enjoyed from time to time, but her mother was a very particular person when it came to tea. Therefore, Marinette had taken several pictures of the almost empty packaging, the price, and had even written the name down separately to be able to get exactly the tea she needed.

As she now stood in the tea shop, however, she encountered one very small problem: all the packages were near identical. The names were different, sure, but they still all looked rather similar to her untrained eyes. Determined to find what she needed on her own, she scanned every single one of the teas available. After ten minutes of desperation and briefly being distracted by an assortment of cute mugs, at Tikki’s insistence she finally went over to the counter to ask an employee for help.

Before she could get there though, another customer stepped up to place an order. With no small surprise she realised that it was none other than _Félix_. She momentarily froze up and considered hiding behind a shelf to avoid a confrontation with him, but a quick glance from him in her direction told her that he had already registered her presence. 

“Good afternoon. I’d like a Darjeeling First Flush please. From Glenburn King if you have it,” he said to the woman behind the counter.

“I don’t know if we have this brand in stock, but I can take a look in the back if you’re not in a hurry.”

Unlike Félix, the woman didn’t seem to have noticed Marinette, that or she was just bad at customer service. Well, apart from homework she didn’t have anything urgent to get back to at home, so technically she was fine with waiting. _However,_ there was still a blond problem standing only a few metres away from her and she’d really have liked to get away from him as soon as possible.

Félix nodded. “I’m fine with waiting.”

Awkward silence descended upon the shop as soon as the woman disappeared through a white backdoor.

“So…what are you doing here?” Marinette asked after about ten seconds.

“Buying tea, obviously?” Félix replied with raised eyebrows and a look that said he was questioning her intelligence.

She flushed in embarrassment. Of course he was buying tea. This was a tea shop after all and he had just ordered it for god’s sake!

“Why this tea shop?” She muttered, more to herself. The _one_ time she was in a tea shop and she ran into one of the people she least wanted to see. To her further embarrassment, Félix seemed to have heard her question though.

“Because the last one I went to didn’t have the tea I was looking for.”

“You’re very…uh…particular about your tea, it seems.”

“I lived in England most of my life,” he replied, as if that said enough already. He certainly wasn’t helping to diminish any stereotypes with it, that was for sure. 

Marinette knew better than to ask further, as she herself didn’t exactly avoid French stereotypes either, living in a bakery and thus almost always carrying around croissants or other confectionery specialties France was widely known for.

“I watched you today,” Félix said eventually and hell, if that wasn’t the most ominous thing he could have said then she didn’t know what was. It certainly didn’t help her poor nerves to calm down. “Do correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m under the impression that you’re the only one, aside from my dense cousin, it seems, who isn’t under Lila’s spell and have therefore proven to be in possession of more than two braincells.”

Marinette wasn’t sure if that last part was an insult or just a very bad compliment.

“You don’t seem to be very impressed by her either,” Marinette said and crossed her arms in front of her chest to appear more confident than she was in that moment. The entire situation was _unnerving_ to say the least and felt more like an interrogation than a conversation between classmates.

Félix scoffed. “I’m neither a brain dead idiot nor a spineless doormat like Adrien.”

Marinette automatically bristled at the comment about Adrien, even though a very, _very_ small part of her couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t talk about Adrien like that! He’s kind, always helps when he can, and actually _cares_ about people. Something that doesn’t exactly run in the family, it seems.”

“Ah right, you’re _in love_ with him.”

Metaphorical hackles raised at his mocking tone, Marinette got ready to defend her love for Adrien instead of melting into an embarrassed puddle, only to falter. He had Kagami now and despite what her heart still felt, she wanted, no, _needed_ to get over him. With much less fight in her voice this time, she eventually said: “He’s my friend and a good person. Cousin or not, I don’t appreciate it when people talk badly about him.”

Sighing deeply, she shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to discuss Adrien with Félix of all people. The only alternative that came to mind was the original topic of this so-called _conversation_ though.

“Be careful about Lila. It won’t do you any favours to get on her bad side, trust me on that one.”

Félix inquisitively raised an eyebrow at that. Just when she was about to elaborate, the employee came back.

As if their conversation had never happened, he gave the woman his full attention, paid for his tea, and then turned to leave. While turning towards the entrance, he gave Marinette a nod. The bell of the door jingled and he was gone.

Ordering her mother’s tea went by in a sort of haze and she was glad to actually have gotten the right one when she checked on her way back home. The short encounter with Félix had perplexed her in more ways than one. While he hadn’t exactly been _nice_ , he definitely hadn’t been malicious either—though still somewhat snarky. Was there a chance that he wasn’t as bad as she had feared him to be?

That night she dreamed about wandering through the aisles of the teashop. She passed mugs and pralines alike, but the tea she was looking for remained frustratingly elusive. Tikki suggested to ask an employee but she couldn’t see anyone, nor even a counter to ask anyone at. What she did spot, though, was a door. A pink, wooden slab with a sign on it. Was it possibly the back door? Perhaps the employee was in the back! She’d just open the door, peek through, and ask them.

The handle was a swirl of black and white and she pushed it down without a second thought. Instead of a back room, though, she found herself in a corridor once she stepped through it.

Marinette blinked with the sudden realisation that she was dreaming and closed the door behind her. Giddiness quickly replaced desperation, as lucid dreaming was rare for her and usually didn’t last long before she woke up. She should better make the most of it while she still could! Perhaps she could dream that Adrien was with her and–

No.

She was still trying to get over him, so no imagining anyone!

Instead, she looked up at a pastel blue door in front of her. It seemed simple, like it belonged to a cottage or something similar out in the country. Other than the blue colour there was nothing much remarkable about it. She turned around to inspect the door she had originally come through.

Just as she had seen before, it was a light pink colour, wooden, but still with a modern look about it. On each side of it was a hanging planter with her favourite flowers in them—pink primroses and petunias in one, marigolds of all colours in the other, ladybugs crawling around on them. The most prevalent feature of the door was the sign on it though.

> ** CURRENT LIFE STATUS **
> 
> Commissions: ASK ME
> 
> Discounts: RETURNING CUSTOMERS ONLY
> 
> Requests: CLOSED
> 
> Love Life: ON HOLD
> 
> Bakery Benefits: FRIENDS ONLY
> 
> Interviews: OPEN (ONLY PRE-APPROVED TOPICS)
> 
> Current State: DREAMING

For once, her subconscious was spot-on with that assessment.

She took a step back to take in the corridor in its entirety. What she saw were hundreds upon hundreds of doors, all neatly next to each other, their rows stretching so far into the distance that she couldn’t see an end. Here and there, other corridors branched off from the main one and she suspected to find even more doors in those. All the while, a strange dusk-like light without any clear source engulfed everything, not dark but not quite bright either. The only light source she could see was the sole lantern above an antique door in the distance, but it, too, barely made a difference, only lighting up its immediate surroundings. 

Marinette decided to go for a walk through this strange dream, her steps giving eerie echoes the whole time. Some doors were simple like the blue one right across from hers, while others included quite a lot of detail or could barely be called doors at all—one looked like an elevator door. There was a door that looked like a gothic portal to a church, large and intimidating, while the one right across from it was a princess-pink with white and neon pink hearts splattered all over it. She even spotted a door that looked like the front door to their bakery, sign and everything.

All of the doors were locked though. No matter which one she tried to open, none of them budged at all.

She was just inspecting a burgundy door with carvings on it when a noise at her feet made her jump and even let out a startled squeak. When she looked down though, she couldn’t help but laugh. It was just a cat, the first other sign of life she had seen in this place. More specifically, it was a black cat with green eyes—her subconscious no doubt drawing on Chat Noir’s influence—and it sat in front of what looked like a teenager’s bedroom door, full with stickers and a sign that said ‘STOP! Keep Out!’ Marinette crouched to be on something more resembling eye level to the cat and held out her hand for it to sniff. It seemed to be friendly, as it immediately rubbed its head against her hand and started purring when she carefully petted it. Were cats growing on her more than she thought after all?

Wait, this was _her_ dream and she was controlling it! After a moment of concentration, a fluffy little silver hamster sat on the ground as well. It also caught the cat’s attention but, despite her momentary fear of it eating the rodent, it just crouched down to look at it more closely.

“Cute, isn’t it?” she asked the cat and to her surprise it nodded.

Well, it _was_ a dream. She shouldn’t overanalyse things.

Carefully she picked up the hamster, which was much more complacent than a real hamster probably would have been, and carefully petted it with a finger. She really was starting to like this dream. Continuing her stroll down the corridor with the hamster in her hand and the cat trotting behind her, she made mental notes for some door designs that she could easily modify into dress designs instead—especially that glass one that looked like there was water shimmering on its other side. Marinette was just in the middle of admiring a forest green door that had a beech tree growing next to it—the cat seemed to especially enjoy that detail as it immediately started climbing it—when she heard the noise of a door handle nearby.

A silent creak of hinges made her jump behind the tree. Carefully, she peeked around it to see the antique wooden door with the lantern above it open and out of it stepped…Marinette internally groaned. She understood that her brain somehow needed to process her run-in with Félix from that day, but why did that have to happen while she was aware of it?! Félix closed the door behind him and locked not one but _four_ locks with a set of keys. She then watched him walk over to a colourful door close to the one he had come out of, to then converse with…was that a plush donkey? 

Only when he walked through the door and it closed behind him did she step back out from her hiding place. She might not appreciate Félix’s presence in her dream, but this colourful door seemed to be the only one apart from her own pink one that could apparently be opened and she was nothing if not curious.

She sat the hamster down at the roots of the tree where it immediately started to look for food and stepped closer to the colourful door. It looked like a stage design for a play, but slapped on a door instead of on cardboard and with the door handle having the appearance of a downward pointing crescent moon. She tried it and managed to open the door only a crack before a chain on the other side stopped her and the plush donkey she had seen before stepped out.

“ _Oh, a guest! A guest!_ ” It said, surprisingly in English instead of French. “ _Show me what you have in your pocket there!_ ”

It took Marinette a moment to comprehend the words and then look down. She was still wearing the clothes she had during the day. Wait, had she fallen asleep from the short nap she had lied down for earlier? Oh well, seeing how this was a lucid dream, she’d probably wake up soon enough anyway and could change into her pyjamas then. Following what the plush donkey had said, she pulled the only object she had in her pocket out and held it up. It was a keychain she had found on the ground of the classroom earlier that day. She didn’t know who it belonged to, but seeing how Lila would take _any_ opportunity to frame her for something, she would have probably been drawn out like a ruthless thief when trying to find the owner. Thus, she had kept it in the hope that someone would lament about a lost keychain so that she could sneakily return it some other time this week.

“ _Entry granted!_ ” The plush donkey chirped and the door swung open for her.

Now though, it was time to find out what it had just granted her access to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hamster mentioned is based on [132364](https://archiveofourown.org/users/132364)'s hamster Hammy because he's the cutest orb!


	4. Love Stinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Félix didn't sign up for this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's welcome Claude, Allegra and Allen to the plot! c:

Félix, to his own chagrin, was much more familiar with the nature of Claude’s dreams than any normal, sane person should be. Thus, it didn’t surprise him in the slightest to end up in the ring of a circus tent, absolute mayhem going on all around him with his friend in a ring master’s outfit right in the middle.

“And now, dear gentlefolk, let me introduce our main attraction: Félix Graham De Vanily! The grumpiest of grumps!”

The sound of a snort amid the applause from the rows of the audience drew Félix’s attention to Allegra, who hadn’t even bothered to change out of her pyjamas, and Allen, who waved at him. He then sighed and settled on a glare for Claude.

“ _Really_?” He said in the most deadpan tone he could manage.

“Of course! Your mum even said so and mother knows best, am I right?”

Félix made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “I meant _this_.”

Claude let out a theatrical gasp of horror. “This is your grand welcome! Appreciate it!”

“Stop teasing him, Claude,” Allen cut in with a grin.

“It’s been a _week_! A grand welcome is needed!” Claude insisted before sighing. “But alright, I’ll downscale it a little.”

The circus tent disappeared along with the audience, the burning rings and tigers and everything else. In its place formed the familiar surroundings of Félix’s favourite coffee shop back in London. He breathed a sigh of relief and immediately felt better. He was also relieved to note that Claude had changed into regular clothes.

“An elegant change,” he commented as he sat down at a table by the window, Allen sitting down next to him and Allegra and Claude on the chairs opposite him—with the latter being directly in front of him.

“Thanks, I try,” Claude said with a bow that almost ended with his face on the table. “Now, how is the new school? Caused any natural disasters yet?”

Félix was about to retort that he knew very well how to behave in a school setting, thank you very much, but he didn’t get the opportunity to.

“ _So,_ that’s _where you went. Should have figured it would be a coffee shop or something_ ,” a familiar French voice said and he turned around to see none other than Marinette walk up to them.

Félix wasn’t sure what came first: the colour draining from his face or the heat rushing into his cheeks. Maybe both at once. Because Marinette couldn’t be here, which meant that _he_ was imagining her. After all, only he, out of the four of them, spoke fluent French and actually knew her.

Predictably, Claude couldn’t resist snickering and giving a comment.

“Oooooh, I _see_ now. Only two days at a new school, Félix, and you already found a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“I’m not his girlfriend!”

The two of them said at the same time, one with absolute embarrassment and barely held composure, the other with a French accent and indignation. Of all the awkward things to happen, this was by far one of the worst. Why he thought of the girl at all was perplexing, but that he did so in this much detail was something that was more than just shocking.

“ _Love stinks anyway,_ ” he heard her mutter in French but didn’t pay much mind to it.

“ _Marinette, go away_ ,” he said, also in French and with an insistence that he hoped didn’t border on desperation.

Claude, who had either understood that much French or otherwise gotten the gist of what Félix was trying to do, interjected.

“No, no, please stay!” He said with a huge grin and another chair appeared at the table. “And tell us all about what Félix has been up to in Paris. In English, if you can.”

That his friends would take advantage of his subconscious like that was _appalling!_

“Where did the–?” Marinette started but then shrugged and sat down. “Who are you?”

Claude’s grin widened. “We’re Félix’s friends!”

Marinette turned around to Félix. “You have _friends?!_ ” She asked with such honest shock—in French again—that he considered feeling insulted by his own subconscious. Most likely some of his resentment of Chat Noir claiming him to be friendless still lingering.

Claude, apparently, had, again, understood that much, because he burst out laughing.

“I know, right?! It’s a little hard to believe when you first meet him, but he isn’t so bad after knowing him for a while.”

Marinette’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her fringe. She was obviously highly sceptical. 

“How long does that while take?”

That drew laughter from Allegra and Allen as well and Félix was tempted to actually let the ground swallow him whole. How practical that this was actually possible in a dream.

“So, your name is Marinette?” Allegra asked and leaned forward. “Tell us a little about yourself, please. I’m awfully curious what would make Félix be drawn to you as he’s extremely picky with the company he keeps.”

“I’m highly considering getting even pickier with it,” Félix muttered with a dark look her way, but Allegra only stuck out her tongue at him.

“Well…uh…I like fashion and design a bit?” Marinette said, obviously scrambling for English vocabulary. “And my parents have a bakery and I help out there sometimes, too. Oh, I also like Jagged Stone’s music and–”

It went on like that for a while, with all of his friends asking the girl all sorts of questions. Félix was impressed with his subconscious, honestly, as he didn’t recall to have picked up _that_ much information about Marinette in the last two days. Then again, she was one of Adrien’s friends so he might have mentioned her at some point. He also realised, the more he watched her talk to his friends, that she actually fit in quite well with them. If this wasn’t a perfectionistic version, a conclusion drawn by the depths of his mind from what he thought she was like, then she might actually make for a decent acquaintance.

After some minutes, he started to become less impressed with his subconscious, however, and much more sceptical of what was really going on here. She was talking about things he couldn’t possibly know in detail and that, therefore, were absolutely impossible for his subconscious to accurately recreate. Moreover, instead of fluent English, she often scrambled for vocabulary he would have never had trouble with, which further disproved his assumption that she was the figment of his imagination.

Marinette was just stuttering her way through an explanation about crocheting patterns when Félix couldn’t ignore the feeling of dread any longer.

“ _Marinette, as interesting as that is, what are you even doing here_?” He asked her in French.

“Don’t be rude, Félix,” Allegra chastised him—no doubt referring to him interrupting Marinette in the middle of a sentence—but he didn’t pay her any mind, his attention solely focused on confused blue eyes.

“ _Talking_?” She asked in French, confused.

“ _No, I mean: how did you get here_?”

“ _I walked through the door you went through? All the others were locked_.”

This time the colour really did drain out of his face. “ _How did you get through that door?! You’d need a personal object for it!_ ”

Without hesitation, she pulled something out of her pocket and held it up. With rising dread he realised that it was the very keychain—Claude’s keychain—that he had lost earlier that day. At the sight of it, absolute silence fell on the table as the realisation of what this meant settled on everyone. Well, everyone except Marinette, who still looked thoroughly confused.

“I…uh…there was a donkey plush? It said I could come in when I showed this.”

Eventually, Félix broke the tense silence by sighing.

“This is why I asked to meet today, Claude. I lost your keychain and wanted to tell you to tighten the security measures for your door.” He looked at Marinette. “Apparently, we now know who found it, at least.”

Marinette still seemed confused.

“Wait, she’s _real_?! I thought you were just messing with us by making up a French girlfriend or something!” Claude exclaimed.

Félix looked at him in both exasperation and embarrassment.

Marinette suddenly perked up. “Did you hear–?”

And just like that, from one moment to the next, she was gone.

Allegra sighed. “She woke up.”

“Félix, you need to tell her as soon as possible. It could become very dangerous for her if she’d believe this to just be like any other dream,” Allen said.

Félix grimly nodded. It seemed like he needed to have a long, and probably uncomfortable, talk with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, probably should have put that keychain into a safer place than your pocket Félix :'D


	5. Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the enemy of your enemy is your friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we reached the chapter that matches up to the summary! Have fun! c:

Marinette was in a bad mood after the late night Akuma attack, namely because of the resulting loss of sleep. Despite the immediate distraction, though, she still remembered what she had dreamt before Tikki had woken her up. Which was odd, as her dreams usually faded only seconds after waking up. The clarity in which she remembered it, though, was astounding. The corridor, the cat, the hamster and, most especially, the entire thing in the coffee shop with Félix and his friends. She snorted, still not believing that her mind had made up a group of friends for him—it still seemed ridiculous, even in the light of day. More so, she even remembered the names her subconscious had given them: Claude, Allegra and Allen.

The Félix in her dream had also seemed less snarky and rude than the one in real life, and instead had something almost soft and vulnerable about him. She immediately hated her subconscious for doing that to her, as she would no doubt be inclined to give him a sliver of a chance now. Damn it. And all of it because she just _had to_ run into him in the godforsaken tea shop!

Marinette had just climbed the stairs in front of the school and entered the courtyard, fairly early for her standards—the Akuma attack had ended at ten past six and then it hadn’t been worth it to lie down to sleep again—when she was dragged to the side. Not roughly, but with a grip that was slightly too firm to be called _gentle_. At first, she thought it was Alya—or worse: Lila—but one glance at her _kidnapper_ made her freeze and stumble. 

_Félix?!_

“What the hell!” She exclaimed and tore her arm out of his grip while trying very hard not to show how flustered she was.

“Good morning to you too,” he said soberly. “Let’s cut straight to the case: I want my keychain back.”

Marinette felt like a rug had been pulled out from under her feet. 

_What?_

“H-how do you know that I have it?” She asked, her voice taking on a slightly shrill and squeaky quality from the rising hysteria and racing thoughts.

She hadn’t told anyone that she had it out of paranoia, so either someone had found out after all and told Félix—though that was unlikely since no one voluntarily talked to him—or he had somehow found out himself. Just _how_ though?! Would he think that she was a thief?! While she might have a small streak of kleptomania, she had so far always returned what she had stolen—mostly phones—and she _really_ didn’t need for a new, half-founded, rumour to make the rounds. 

Félix sighed and looked around at the students in the courtyard in annoyance. “Why couldn’t you have come earlier?” He muttered, though more to himself it seemed.

That small comment was all she needed to centre herself again. Crossing her arms and throwing him an unimpressed glare she stated: “I _am_ early.”

Félix stared at her in what looked like disbelief. “Class starts in ten minutes. How in the world is _that_ early?!”

Marinette spluttered. “It is for me!” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Anyway, I have some questions.”

“I believe you do,” he said and held out his hand. “Give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“Knowing your history with phones, I’d rather not.”

“Fine,” he grumbled and then rummaged around in his bag, eventually got his own phone out and unlocked it. “Here, give me your number and I’ll message you. Then you can ask me all the questions you want during class.”

Marinette hesitated a moment before she took it. Hopefully she wouldn’t regret this, but then again, she had played with the idea of getting a second phone and sim card for professional contacts and close friends anyway. If worse came to worst, she could make that vague idea a reality after a few more commissions. Or she could just get a new sim card altogether.

When she got to his contacts though, she froze. The first three names, with matching pictures next to them, were _Allegra, Allen_ and _Claude_. They were the exact people from her dream, though she was absolutely certain that she had never seen or heard of them before the dream last night. And now Félix was demanding back his keychain that he couldn’t have known about unless…

With an uneasy feeling, she put in her contact information and handed Félix his phone back. Suddenly she had even _more_ questions than just a minute ago. To dispel the sudden chill that went through her and gave her goosebumps, she raised an eyebrow at him in pretend-amusement.

“Félix Graham De Vanily, texting _during_ class? What a scandal,” she joked, though it, against her desperate hopes, did little to ease the tension of the situation.

Félix rolled his eyes. “The first period is English. Since I’m already fluent, I am excused from it and will spend that time in the library. If you’re worried about missing crucial material in that class today, I offer to help you with it during lunch break. But I believe you’re starting to realise that a conversation about what happened should be had sooner rather than later.”

Marinette swallowed and nodded, not trusting her words right now.

She sat in class, a ton of dread weighing in her gut. To escape Lila’s usual shenanigans, Alya’s curious glances, and to just have some peace of mind, Marinette had decided to sit alone in the back today. At least she’d be able to text without the teacher noticing. Hopefully.

> `**Unknown Number:** Hello. This is Félix. `
> 
> `**Marinette:** hi it’s marinette`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** I do hope this isn’t too unconventional.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** what? texting? it’s okay`
> 
> `so, will you tell me what the hell is going on or do I need to guess?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** It’d be amusing to hear your theories, but this class is only one hour long and there’s much to discuss, so I’ll spare you. `
> 
> `The dream last night was real. Or as real as a dream can be.`

She knew it. She didn’t want to believe it, but deep down she knew that he was telling the truth. And it was scaring the ever-loving crap out of her.

> `**Marinette:** how’s that possible?!`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** How are Akumas and magic superheroes possible? I thought someone from Paris of all places wouldn’t question it much.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** that’s not an answer`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** It’s as good an answer as any. I don’t know _how_ the dreaming is possible myself, just that it _is_ possible and that it comes with its own rules and regulations.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** which would be?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** Everyone has their own, personal dream door and they’re all connected through the corridors. The doors switch places at random and you can get lost quite easily if you wander too far. The doors of the people closest to us are within easy reach most of the time. That is an intricate net of connections though and the corridor appears the same to the people who are in it at the same time, so the system, as far as there is one, is fairly chaotic.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** ooookay that just fried my brain`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** That’s merely the beginning.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** what are the rules you mentioned?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** Well, as you already noticed, the doors are locked. To get through them, you either have to share a blood relation with that person or possess a personal object of theirs. For example, you’d be able to go through your parents’ doors (though I really don’t recommend that) as long as they don’t have barriers in place.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** barriers?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** To protect your dreams and thus your subconscious and entire psyche, you can place barriers on your door that prevent relatives, or people who are in possession of a personal object of yours, to go through your door. If they manage that, it’d be easy for them to find out your innermost secrets, which can quickly become fairly dangerous depending on what secrets you have.`

Marinette blanched and very much hoped that no one was looking in her direction right now. This meant that if someone managed to get through her dream door, they could possibly find out that she was Ladybug! This was a catastrophe!

> `**Marinette:** HOW DO I MAKE BARRIERS?!`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** Usually those are made subconsciously, but since it’s your door and thus your dreams, you can dream up basically anything. Claude has his plush donkey as a barrier, which turns into a sharp-toothed monster to whoever doesn’t present a personal object for entrance. You were considerably lucky to have found the keychain, otherwise that might have quickly turned into a nightmare for you.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** good to know. and you have four locks apparently?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** Yes.`

The class noise suddenly picked up and Marinette realised that they had been asked to work on something in the textbook. She quickly turned the page to look at the task, something about reading comprehension, and started to skim the text while texting on the side.

> `**Marinette:** okay so what can I do for my door?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** It’s your door, think of something. It could even be a person or imagined creature that would physically fight off anyone who tries to get through it.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** how did you find out about this whole dreaming thing?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** How did _you_ find out?`

Marinette was tempted to answer with a stubborn ‘I asked first’ but then decided that it would just needlessly prolong everything. Félix was right after all and they only had until the end of class.

> `**Marinette:** I just walked through my door and knew I was dreaming`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** That’s usually how it goes. I have no idea what prompts anyone to notice their dream door, but I suspect great desperation in some shape or form is involved.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** Desperation?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** When you feel like you need to escape from your life, but can’t, for example. The dreaming is somewhat of a reprieve. `
> 
> `Keep in mind that while you’re in the corridor or aware that you’re dreaming, your mind isn’t resting so despite sleeping at that time, you won’t get any rest. That's also why you can remember everything like it really happened. I therefore recommend to not do it too often or for too long.`

_Ugh, as if I’m not sleep-deprived enough already!_

A part of her wondered if she, perhaps, was still asleep and all of this was just a very elaborate and bizarre dream. For one, she was _texting_ Félix of all people and talking about something that should actually be impossible with a casualness as if he was explaining a mundane thing like…like _hiking_ to her! Then again, with how tired she felt and with how realistically _boring_ this English class was, she feared that she really _was_ awake and that this was reality after all.

_How is this my life?!_

> `**Marinette:** noted thanks`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** By the way, I do believe I owe you an apology. My behaviour during my visit a month ago was absolutely unacceptable, no matter what reasoning I had for it. It was a childish and malicious act of retaliation against Adrien for not showing up at my father’s funeral, though I now realise that it wasn’t his fault at all but rather my uncle’s. I’m sorry that you had to be dragged into this and that I caused three Akumas no less.`

Marinette blinked. Now _that_ had come out of nowhere! Was he honestly apologizing though or was he trying to get into her good graces for…something? Either way, it was nice of him to so kindly remind her about the triple Akuma thing, as she had actually shoved that thought to the side in the last couple of hours. Scowling at the phone while remembering his involvement in that particular fight, she typed out her reply.

> `**Marinette:** it’s Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir you need to apologise to then, not me.`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** You might be right with that.`

Just _what_ was he playing at?! No matter how furious she still was at him for everything that had happened, one still couldn’t say that she was _heartless_. While it didn’t excuse his actions, she still was sorry that he had lost his father and was still mourning him. She couldn’t even imagine what she’d go through if she lost one of _her_ parents at this age…

> `**Marinette:** my condolences about your father by the way. Adrien said something about it on Monday but how recent is it really? if that’s not too personal to ask. you don’t have to reply if you don’t want to`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** May 5th `

That was barely half a year ago.

> `**Marinette:** I’m sorry`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** You have nothing to apologize for.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** no I mean I’m sorry this happened to you. no one should lose a parent at this age...`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** Now, if you don’t mind sharing, what is your desperation?`
> 
> `**Marinette:** what?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** The reason why you found your door. You don’t have to say if you don’t want to. I understand that it can be quite the personal matter.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** isn’t it obvious? the Lila situation! I tried exposing her and it didn’t work. I tried the high road like Adrien suggested and it got worse. I’m so tired of her shenanigans...`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** No wonder you found your door. You couldn’t find a solution in real life, so you tried finding one in your dreams.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** what do you mean?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** These dreams are powerful and can even be manipulative at times. Get a few personal belongings of your classmates and you could just wander into their dreams and find out their innermost secrets. Who knows? It might even give you an answer to how you can get back in their good graces despite Lila’s involvement.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** that...seems wrong. it’s like the biggest invasion of privacy in like...ever! isn’t it?`
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** It indeed is. You’d need to have little to no scruples to go through with it.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** I’ll find something else. `
> 
> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** Suit yourself, but you do possess the knowledge of dreams now. Secure your door, don’t go into the corridor and don’t do anything about it if you truly reject this opportunity.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** I said I’ll find something else. I never said I won’t find that in a dream as well. I’ll look around. who knows? maybe there’s things and tricks out there even _you_ don’t know about`

The bell rang, signalling the end of class. Marinette quickly packed her barely touched English notes and text book into her bag—she might really have to ask Félix to help her catch up during lunch—and rushed out before Lila could pounce on her about literally _anything_. Looking at her phone while walking to biology class, she couldn’t help but smile a little. 

> `**Félix Graham De Vanily:** In that case, feel free to knock on my door if you want me to explain anything to you in further detail.`

It felt good to _finally_ have someone in her corner again, even when that person turned out to be someone she couldn’t and _shouldn’t_ trust. They weren’t friends by any means, but sharing a secret and a common enemy still was something that sent an excited thrill through her. She might be practically friendless at this point, but she at least wasn’t _alone_ anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, this was a coding-nightmare  
> Hope you enjoyed the rules of dreamwalking. Usually I'd prefer "show not tell" but I thought that Félix just straight-up explaining everything to her instead of letting Marinette figure it out on her own would be more fitting to him. Also, there are only 30 chapters in this story and I have _plans!_


	6. Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> backstory time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extremely loose prompt, sorry ;w;

Their French teacher had sent them to the library to read another chapter of _Les Misérables_ by Victor Hugo. It was rather a treat than a real task, as it was one of the classics Félix enjoyed most and he had wanted to reread it anyways. His time of bliss, secluded in a surprisingly comfortable armchair at the back of the library, was cut short, however, when footsteps approached and stopped in front of him. He internally sighed, memorised the page he was on and then looked up to be greeted with the very unpleasant sight of Lila Rossi with one hand centimetres away from his bag.

“Do you believe me to be blind, Rossi?”

She didn’t even have the decency to move and instead threw him a fake smile.

“Oh, I just wanted to get a close look at your bag. It looks amazing.”

He raised his eyebrows. While he agreed that his leather satchel was indeed pretty, he very much doubted that a lot of others would say the same about the worn old thing.

“You’re a fool if you believe empty flattery to work on me. What are you after?” He asked and used a foot to drag his bag closer to himself, out of Lila’s reach.

“What do you mean?”

“This is the second time you have attempted to touch, if not even apprehend, my things without my consent. Mean tongues might say you tried to steal from me. So, let me ask again: What the hell do you want?”

In an instant, she dropped her sweetness and Félix wasn’t sure if he should be glad about it or not. Having to watch her act as if he was going to fall for it had been a true impertinence, but her true colours were little better. A grin, sharp and poisonous, grew on her face and she leaned against a bookshelf, posture as if she had already won. 

“Fine,” she said, her voice now smooth and deeper, giving it something more threatening. Marinette’s warning briefly flashed through his mind, but he quickly decided that unlike her, he was very well able to handle a lying snake. “How about a deal, Félix? The whole class hates you, though I’m sure I can convince them to give you a second chance. Otherwise, well,” she looked at her nails. “It’d be easy to push them just a little further to make your time here…let’s say, _difficult_.” 

He didn’t like the predatory smile on her face one bit.

“How about neither?” He huffed. “I don’t make it a habit to strike deals with people who have nothing to show for themselves aside from empty, fake claims. Neither am I interested in the company of brainless idiots that have nothing better to do than lap up your fake stories like a pack of starving street dogs.”

Her grin turned into a snarl. “Listen, I have _power_ and you have _nothing_. These are the stakes. Help me and you’ll have a much easier time here, go against me and end up like Marinette.”

There it was.

“If you’re threatening defamation, then I’m certain there are laws against it. Furthermore, the library’s security camera has caught your attempted theft and my intervention. How about instead of building your web of lies, you deal with actual, palpable consequences for once? Do what you want in this school, Rossi, but if I report you, the police _will_ contact your parents and no matter how small the claim is, I’m sure the embassy would be _quite_ interested in your harassment of an international student. Think wisely. I’m neither one of your sheep, nor am I Marinette. I can and _will_ retaliate if you do _anything_ against my person. After all, unlike you, I actually _know_ how to play a convincing role.”

The glare she threw him screamed murder and he found it much more amusing than he probably should.

“You’ll regret this!” She seethed, a dog with all bark and no bite, before storming off.

Félix rolled his eyes and picked _Les Misérables_ back up. Lila had no leverage against him and she knew it. Whatever she’d do now would be an act out of desperation or, if she was smart, she’d do nothing and observe him instead. Fine. He’d go along with her little game for now, because two could play at it, even though she didn’t seem to know that.

“How was school, sweetheart?” His mother asked as she sat down at the dinner table with a plate of lasagne.

“ _Interesting_ ,” Félix replied, as that was certainly the only word to summarize it with. Starting with his conversation with Marinette, their texting during his free period where he might have divulged more personal details than he should have and then, eventually, the confrontation with Lila in the library. Another word to describe it would be _eventful_ , though that would require him to elaborate said events and he wasn’t planning to recount them to his mother. Well, not _all_ of them at least. 

“Is it possible to report someone for attempted theft in France?”

His mother looked up in surprise. “If this is about the ring, then Gabriel doesn’t have any proof that you stole it.”

Félix shook his head. “No, for once I’m the victim,” he said and turned the heirloom on his finger. “There is someone in my class who has tried to steal something from me on multiple occasions and it’s getting quite annoying. When I called her out on it, she threatened defamation. The thing is, she’s a serial liar and calling her out could end up in her akumatisation. After what happened last time, I don’t want to get on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s bad side by causing yet _another_ Akuma, no matter how righteous the cause would be this time.”

“Well, that won’t do,” his mother said, a determined glint in her eyes. “I’ll have a look into the French laws. Who knows, it might even come in handy for us at the party on Sunday.”

Ah, right. _The_ party. His uncle was launching a new line and was celebrating in a small circle in his own mansion for once. He and his mother were invited and Félix would definitely try to use the opportunity to locate and steal back the second of the twin rings. Apart from his mother’s work in a movie here in Paris, this had been their second reason to move into the city for at least a few months. 

“I’m going to leave the detective work to you then. It’ll be useful either way.”

“Speaking of the party, do you have someone you want to bring as your plus one?”

Félix raised an eyebrow. “Uncle allows the guests to take a plus one?”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Well, he didn’t explicitly say it, but the press will be there and if he makes a fuss about his own family bringing an extra person, it would look bad on him. Do you have someone in mind?”

His usual reply to that would have been _Allegra_ or just a plain _no_. With the former not being available, the answer should have been clear. Yet, he actually did find himself considering one specific person.

“Perhaps. I’m still contemplating it.”

Félix was pulled out of his unaware dream-state by a knock on his door; he hoped that he had at least been able to catch a few hours of sleep. He let the surroundings of his old school in England fill him with nostalgia for a bit—he wasn’t surprised that he was dreaming about it even though it had only been two weeks since he had last been there—and that, in turn, reminded him how all of this had started. 

It was about this time last year, when his father had lain sick in bed on most days with the looming expectancy that he wouldn’t even make it into the new year. At that time, Félix had been more than desperate to escape the constant nightmares that had plagued him. As it was with nightmares though, escapes were nearly non-existent. At least, until he had walked through an antique wooden door to find silence and endless opportunities. 

At first, he hadn’t known what to do and the thing with the personal belongings had taken him at least a month to figure out, but what he had been able to do from the get go was to go through the rich red door with the golden ornaments. His father’s door. To visit his father in his dreams and clue him in on the corridor and the dream-walking had been one of the best decisions of his life. In their dreams, his father wasn’t weakened by sickness and they could dream up wherever they wanted to go, making the journeys on his father’s bucket list without ever physically going there. It had been freeing and he had noticed how his father had perked up as well, spurred on by the wishes he could fulfil for himself when asleep. He had also cautioned Félix to not tell his mother. As much as they both loved her, they knew she could be vindictive and manipulative if she wanted to be and the dreams would be like a buffet for a person like her.

Despite the joy in their dreams, his father’s health had been declining fast and the peace of the nights had always vanished with the light of morning. Félix had tried to vent his sorrows in his diary, hoping for it to somehow make things better, but it never did. His friends had been understandably worried about him, but he had been afraid that if he started to talk, he wouldn’t have been able to stop—or worse, that he’d have cried. Therefore, he had never said a word and had instead just braved through the days as best as he could.

That was, until his diary had disappeared from his room after Claude had visited. He had given it back the next day, but before that, Félix had encountered him in the corridor like a deer in headlights. From then on, Claude had basically been _haunting_ the dream corridor, beyond curious about the dreams of some classmates or even teachers. It had only been when he had told Félix that they could technically get the answers for the next physics test that way—their teacher was a tyrant—that he had realised how dangerous and invasive these dreams could really be. He had installed locks on his door and became paranoid whenever he stepped out into the corridor, but still hadn’t let that dampen the time he could spend with his father through the dreams.

Eventually, his father had lost the fight against leukaemia—living five months longer than the doctors had originally given him—and passed away peacefully in his sleep. Félix remembered the moment, as he had been there when it had happened. They had visited the Giant’s Causeway off of Northern Ireland; it was something Félix vaguely recalled visiting when he was a little kid and his father had told him the story of how he had slipped on the rocks and almost fallen into the sea. It had been strangely nostalgic and his father had seemed happy and at peace. He had told Félix how proud he was of him and that he had grown into a fine boy and would become an even greater man someday. He had asked him to remember him like this instead of what cancer had made him. It was a promise Félix tried his best to uphold, but it was impossible to get the image of his sick, thin, father, cursed with death, out of his head completely.

In this fateful last dream, his father had not abruptly disappeared like someone did when waking up, but had slowly faded away with his eyes on the sunset and the sea. The dream hadn’t broken down around them either like it otherwise would have, but had remained the way it was. It was still there, dead and frozen in a loop, but _existent_. Like a grave.

After that, Félix had visited his father’s dead dream often, as if a miracle would happen and he would appear again. But the dead remained dead, even in dreams.

Claude had grown worried about him, telling him it wasn’t healthy to hang on to it like that and that he shouldn’t go there. He had even followed Félix into his father’s dream one night to keep him company until they both woke up, only for Félix to go back into his father’s dream again the next night to find a frantic Claude. He had apparently been _trapped_ in there with no dream door as an escape in sight until Félix had entered as well. That was the point where Claude had decided to break his promise and told Allen and Allegra about the dreams to have backup. Together, they had slowly led Félix to have better coping mechanisms than sitting on the Giant’s Causeway in his father’s dead dream for hours, watching the sunset. Therapy had helped.

While Félix had at first been mad at Claude and them and everyone, he had eventually learned to be thankful for their help and had slowly gotten better. His last bit of grim bitterness had been reserved for his uncle and cousin, but even that had mostly vanished by now, leaving him with a strange sense of lightness, as if his grief had chained him to the ground and he had finally started to loosen the chains. It, by far, wasn’t over, of course, and the red door with the golden ornaments still remained in the corridor. In a way, it was odd how nobody could escape it without a personal object of his father’s—the dead didn’t have a need for dreams and thus didn’t need doors either—but every dream had to be preserved, so there was still a door in the corridor. It was a weird paradox, but then again, when had dreams ever been logical?

At another knock on his door, Félix sighed as he took out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the four locks. Bitter nostalgia was something for the daytime, not his dreams. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by not only Marinette, but also an as usually enthusiastic Claude. The two of them seemed wrapped up in a conversation about butterflies as he stepped out. Not surprising, as Claude had always been curious about the Akumas and Marinette, as a local, was practically an expert on them. Félix had done extensive research about them himself after witnessing his first attack a month ago, but nothing beat the first-hand experience of someone who had been there from the start.

Félix turned around to lock his door again, all four locks, before he cleared his throat. Marinette jumped and squeaked while Claude whirled around to him with a grin. 

“Akuma attacks sound so cool! I hope I can see one in real life one day!”

“They’re more scary than cool,” Marinette said, also in English and gave Claude a strained smile. “And trust me, you don’t want to be close to one when it happens.”

“I second that,” Félix agreed and then turned around with a nod. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”


	7. Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more dream shenanigans!

While she was still unsure about this new, sudden development in her life, Marinette couldn’t help but feel some giddy excitement bubbling inside her as she walked through the corridors with Félix and Claude. At first, she had had her doubts whether this was actually a good idea, if she should really trust Félix or if it wouldn’t just be better to stay inside her dreams altogether after securing her door. Especially after the talk she had had with Tikki about it after school, wariness should have been at the forefront of her mind.

Her kwami had confirmed that meeting other people in their dreams was indeed possible and that it was magic that stemmed from a wish made with the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses hundreds of years back. At the time of the wish, it apparently had been a huge catastrophe, leading to witch hunts and people being burned on stakes. The ability to find out other peoples’ deepest secrets and hidden desires was a dangerous one, as well as the subconscious manipulation it allowed. With time, the ability to visit dreams had almost been lost as people simply forgot it even existed. Nowadays, only great desperation, in the absence of prior knowledge about it, could make one find one’s dream door and still, only few actually had the bravery to go through it more than once.

Yet, despite all those warnings, Marinette’s curiosity and a stubborn sense of pride had made her venture out into the corridor once more. For one, it could actually provide her the advantage she needed when it came to Lila, and also, as she thought about it further, she might even be able to use it for finding out Hawkmoth’s identity. How she was going to do _that_ , she had no idea yet, which was one of the reasons why she needed to talk to Félix—and apparently also Claude—tonight to hopefully find out more.

“So, if those doors are the entrances to dreams, then whose dream are we in right now?” Marinette asked, a question that had been bothering her the entire day already.

“I guess that is a philosophical question,” Claude mused. “Honestly, I never thought about it before.”

“Well, there are only three options, aren’t there?” Félix said. “Either it’s your dream and you’re dreaming of us, my dream and I’m dreaming of you two, or Claude’s dream and he’s dreaming of us two.”

“Or, option four, and it’s not even a dream but a different state of being,” Marinette said.

Claude eagerly nodded. “Your option probably describes this insanity the best, Marinette.”

She smiled, happy that she was already getting some sort of a hang on this, and skipped for a few steps.

“Okay, so all the doors belong to people. How do we know which door belongs to which person? Oh, I think that one is my Papa’s actually,” she said and pointed at the door that looked like the bakery’s front door which she had already noticed the night prior. “So, if I’d go through there, I wouldn’t end up in the bakery, but rather in my Papa’s dreams?”

Félix nodded. “Exactly. As for recognizing a person’s door, for some it’s more obvious than for others. Some doors even have names on them, while others are so plain that it’s impossible to tell who they could belong to.”

“Can a door be changed completely or will it stay the way it is forever?” Marinette asked while trying to reorient herself. She could see the door with the tree way off in the distance while the glass door with the water-like texture behind it, that had been close to it before, was now right next to where she was walking.

“Yep, you can change your door’s design consciously, but that takes _a lot_ of work. I always try to make mine look like the latest stage design for the play we’re putting on,” Claude said.

“A play?”

“He’s in the school’s theatre group,” Félix supplied.

“Don’t say it like you weren’t part of it too until you ditched us!” Claude threw in and nudged Félix.

Marinette, meanwhile, wasn’t sure if she should be surprised or not that one of Félix’s hobbies included acting. Probably _not_.

“Alright, this is my door,” she suddenly said as they all stopped in front of her pink door.

It still had the ‘life status’ sign hanging on it, but now also had a string of fairy lights, like the ones on her balcony, fastened above it and sported the addition of a mail slot. She hadn’t made those changes consciously, but they had just been there when she had stepped out of the door that night. Probably because before stepping out, she had heeded Félix’s advice and thought up a few security measures.

Claude whistled in appreciation, while Marinette crouched down to pet the cat that had trotted up to them from its sticker-covered door a few doors down.

“Not bad,” he said as he looked Marinette’s door up and down. “I like your style.”

“Thanks,” Marinette said, scratching the cat behind the ears and then straightened up again.

“I hope you have created barriers like I told you to?” Félix asked, to which she couldn’t help but smirk.

She pointed at her door with an inviting wave.

“Don’t worry, no one will get past it now. Go ahead and try.”

Claude was the brave soul to reach out for the black and white door handle, only to have a silver pole suddenly block his way; a hiss was heard from an invisible perch above the fairy lights, hidden in the shadow. Only moments later, Chat Noir—a dream version of him, anyway—jumped down and twirled his baton like he would in real life.

“ _No one passes this threshold!_ ” He declared in French, a serious glint in his cat eyes, as if he was facing an especially challenging Akuma.

Marinette, meanwhile, leaned back against her door, arms crossed in front of her chest and a smug smile on her face.

“And in case anyone manages to get past Chat, there are even more barriers in place.”

“Can I try?” Claude asked and bounced on the spot. He seemed rather excited than intimidated to be held off by a superhero.

Marinette waved dream-Chat Noir on to let Claude pass just this once. When he, however, tried to push down the door handle, the mail slot opened and the next thing she knew, Claude was letting out a high-pitched scream while a tiny, grey furball was locked teeth-first into his hand. She couldn’t help but snicker. No one ever expected a hamster. And they were nocturnal too, so it’d make for the perfect dream guard.

“Alright, Hammy, that’s enough,” she said and held out a cupped hand to let the hamster jump back into it.

“Hammy?” Was all Félix asked.

Marinette flushed. “I’ve wanted a hamster since I was five, okay? That’s what I wanted to name one back then and it stuck.”

She helped Hammy the hamster back through the mail slot and then moved her attention towards her main door guard. When it had come to deciding who she could imagine to best guard her door and fight off attackers, there had been no one more capable she could think of than her partner. If it came down to it, she could trust Chat Noir with her life, so she could trust him with guarding her dreams as well.

“Good work, Chat. You can go back to your perch now,” she said and motioned upwards.

“ _Anything for you, Princess! I hope you’ll be having a_ meow _velous night_ ,” the dream version of her partner said, sinking into a bow and kissing the back of her hand.

He had barely jumped back up to the perch above the door when Marinette decided she was already regretting her decision of hiring Chat Noir as a door guard. She let her head sink into her hands in mortification and cursed her stupid subconscious for making him act so…so… _in character_.

When she looked up again, she saw that Félix was staring at her judgmentally.

“ _I know him personally and he really calls me that, okay?!_ ” She tried to defend herself and slipped back into French for it, hoping Claude hadn’t understood enough of what Chat had said. “ _He sometimes visits my balcony and I give him leftover pastries from the day._ ”

Félix only raised his eyebrows even higher.

_I should have hired myself as Ladybug for this instead of Chat Noir! Would have definitely led to much less embarrassment._

“ _You know I have a crush on Adrien,_ ” she hissed at last, hoping that would clear up what was possibly a terrible misunderstanding.

Marinette then realised that the present tense in that statement still applied.

_Damn it._

No matter what she tried, she was still fond of Adrien. Of course she knew that, realistically, feelings couldn’t just disappear over a matter of a few weeks, but it was still slightly embarrassing that she just couldn’t let go. She wanted to be his _friend_ and not some hung-up lovestruck idiot! While the torch she carried for him didn’t burn as brightly as it once had, it was still burning, faintly, giving a fond flicker now and again.

“Well, I see you have this door situation perfectly handled,” Claude said, the bite wound on his hand already gone. “How about we get out of the spooky corridor now and practice dreaming?”

Marinette tilted her head. “Practice?”

“Yeah, you know, doing something over and over again to get better at it?”

“I know what ‘practice’ means, but why do I need to practise it?”

“Lucid dreaming is more work than you probably think,” Félix remarked and they started to walk back into the direction they had come from. “Dreaming something up like your door guards is something almost anyone with a speck of creativity can do. When it comes to _yourself_ though, that’s where things start to become difficult.”

“How difficult?”

“Let’s say there are skill levels,” Claude said. “When you’re very good you can appear as a breeze, or something similarly invisible. Changing into animals and staying in that form isn’t too easy either. The easiest is changing your clothes, or hair colour or something similar and you probably won’t need much practice to be able to change to look like someone else either.”

“Why would I want to look like someone else?”

“For spying,” Claude said with a grin. “These dreams are perfect for that.”

Marinette frowned, remembering what she had talked about with Félix via text at school. Then again, she’d be able to forgive herself that invasion of privacy if it was in the name of finding out Hawkmoth’s identity.

While the three of them walked down the corridor, Claude and Félix elaborated more on which forms were difficult to take and which ones were easy along with what other things were easy or hard to dream up. They eventually arrived at Claude’s door and he opened it to let both of them in with a deep bow, just like the one dream-Chat Noir had made earlier.

“I’m sorry, I still have your keychain,” Marinette said to Félix once Claude had closed his door behind them and they were standing in what might be Hyde Park.

“Technically it’s _my_ keychain,” Claude said. “And I don’t mind you having it, so don’t worry. Félix has more personal objects of mine he can use for entrance if he needs to.”

“Okay,” she said with a relieved sigh and then rubbed her arms. 

Wearing pyjamas on what was definitely a foggy autumn morning in England really wasn’t ideal. She suspected that Claude had done it on purpose to prompt her to change her attire. Well, nothing easier than that. She imagined the outfit she had worn the previous day: a black denim jacket, a white shirt, grey jeans and black sneakers. When she looked down at herself, she was wearing the outfit in question and immediately felt warmer.

_Much better._

“Not bad,” Claude said appreciatively. “I really love your jacket! Did you just dream that up or does it really exist?”

“It exists,” she said with a grin and let a hand run over the green thread she had used for the seams—unsurprisingly themed after Chat Noir. “I finished making it a few weeks ago.”

It was almost too late to still be used for autumn weather but she really had been severely occupied otherwise, hadn’t she?

“Wait, you _made_ that _yourself_?! I know you said that you design in your free time but _wow!_ How much are your commissions? I’ll take ten!”

Marinette giggled. “ _Ten_ might be a little too much, but I’ll see when I’ll have room for _one_ and get back to you.”

“Deal!” Claude said with a grin and pumped his fist.

“Do you have any unfinished designs you’re working on right now?” Félix asked.

Marinette nodded. “A few. Why?”

“Try to change into one of them. That’ll be more difficult than something you already wore.”

Her eyes went wide at the thought of what possibilities that gave her. She could try on fashion pieces straight from the catwalks, things she’d never be able to afford and fabrics she had only ever _heard_ of! Shaking her head, she forced her thoughts back to her _own_ designs again and one in particular stood out. She concentrated on the flowy, white-pink ball dress she had designed just for fun a few months back and was waiting for an opportunity to make and wear.

When she hesitantly looked down, she couldn’t help but grin when she saw that it worked and gave a twirl.

“I’m still waiting for a…uh…chance—” she really needed to extend her English vocabulary, “—to make this, but it’s one of my favourite designs. What do you think?”

She looked up to see Claude staring at her with a slack jaw and wide eyes and Félix giving her a surprised but appreciative look.

“We have a goddess among us,” Claude eventually declared in awe and actually bowed like one would before royalty.

Marinette giggled and hoped that she wasn’t blushing.

“You’re much more talented than I gave you credit for,” Félix said and then pointed at her dress. “This is catwalk-worthy.”

Now she really must be blushing.

“T-thank you,” she stammered and then changed back to the outfit with the denim jacket—as pretty as the dress was, it didn’t fit the weather any better than her pyjamas had.

“Hey, have you ever been to London before?” Claude suddenly asked, to which Marinette could just shrug.

“Kinda? We once _attempted_ to go on a class trip there but our train ended up on Big Ben before the Miraculous Cure brought us back.”

“You probably mean the _Elizabeth Tower_ ; Big Ben is the bell.” Félix pointed out. “And we clearly remember _that_ day, don’t we?” Félix said with an eye roll in Claude’s direction.

Claude, meanwhile, started laughing. “Félix and I were convinced that we were somehow still dreaming and both of us looked for our doors for half an hour before we were convinced we were actually awake! Anyway, since that trip of yours failed so spectacularly, how about we give you a tour through London now? We can practice dreaming up things on the way and you’ll actually get to see the city this time!”

Marinette grinned. “Where do we start?”

Marinette was tired. Being barely on time for school, she hadn’t had the chance to get a cup of coffee to go, which meant she had to live with the consequences of practicing _dreaming_ for the entire night. Félix had been absolutely right when he had said that it would rob her of rest and, in retrospect, she was regretting it immensely.

Trying to suppress another yawn, Marinette opened her locker to just get this school day started and then over with. Right at the front of her locker though, positioned so that it was impossible for her to miss, was an envelope. There wasn’t a name on it, so she opened it, hoping it wasn’t a letter from a teacher to her parents about her tardiness. It wasn’t a letter by the school though, but a handwritten, rhyming piece that unmistakably read like a love letter.

Marinette’s tired brain desperately tried to process it but before it could, the bell rang and she scrambled to get her books and then _ran_ to class. The entire first period, when she wasn’t occupied with the incredibly difficult task of _staying awake_ , she was mulling over the letter. Who could have written it? They wanted to meet at a Spanish restaurant that had opened recently and she should wear something blue, which more than puzzled her. If she was supposed to wear something specific, wouldn’t that mean that this person didn’t know what she looked like and needed an identifier? Then again, how could they not know what she looked like when they even knew where her locker was?

While she realised that she really wasn’t in the best state of mind to make decisions, Marinette was still inclined to give this secret admirer a chance. After all, hadn’t she just lamented about not being able to get over Adrien last night? This would be a good opportunity to find more options for herself, so to speak, and to eventually, hopefully, get over him by letting her heart move on to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is: Hammy's cameo! He's a good little floof orb!


	8. Blind Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exactly what the chapter title says, except...not quite ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With over 5k, this is the longest chapter yet!

To say that finding a love letter in his locker had been the last thing Félix had expected that morning would be a tremendous understatement. Given his unpopularity, it was most likely a prank, but in case it was not, in fact, a joke played on him by his classmates, he really didn’t want to become the cause of yet _another_ Akuma—three in one was enough—by standing someone up. That was a worry for later though, so Félix put the letter into his bag and decided to forget about it for the moment being.

Over the course of the school day, he and Marinette fell into an odd camaraderie. A little acting had been involved on his part to appear inconspicuous, while she obviously had more trouble with it. He noticed their classmates and especially Adrien throwing them suspicious looks from time to time, but that, too, was something he tried his best to ignore. Well, it didn’t matter much anyway. Marinette and he were on the same side in this childish yet existent war against Lila and common enemies oftentimes led to strange alliances. At least he considered himself a more valuable ally than his cousin was.

When lunch time rolled around, Félix did his best to keep the aggrieved groan of protest to a mental level instead of voicing it. The thought alone of once more subjecting himself to the abomination this cafeteria outrageously called ‘food’ was revolting.

“Marinette?” He asked as she finished packing her things and was about to get up. “Do you happen to know an establishment close to the school for eating out? It doesn’t need to be something grand, just a café or a restaurant with a quick meal preparation?”

Following that, she actually grinned at him in a way that made him feel like he was missing out on a joke.

“Oh, I know a place, alright. Come on,” she said and stood up.

When they exited the school, she turned right, still not telling him where exactly they were headed.

“Is it far?” He asked, more out of concern for his immaculate attendance record than curiosity.

“No, just on the corner over there,” she replied and pointed at what seemed to be a bakery.

Well, Félix would have prefered a warm meal for lunch, but he supposed this wasn’t too bad either. The closer they got, the more familiar it seemed to become though, especially the front door…

Wait, hadn’t she said something about a bakery and her father’s dream door last night? Yes, she had, hadn’t she? Moreover, the sign on her door mentioned _bakery benefits_ , if he recalled correctly, which would only make sense if… 

“This is your place, isn’t it?” 

Marinette giggled. “I was curious how long it’d take you to notice.”

“Why are you taking me to your place for lunch?”

Her smile dropped a little and she looked away. “Oh…uh…well, it was the first thing I could think of and my parents are used to me bringing friends over from school, so I knew it wouldn’t be a problem, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! I’m sorry, I really should have asked first if you’d be comfortable with that and what if you’re allergic to what _Maman_ cooked and–”

“It’s alright,” he interrupted her panic. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Marinette’s smile returned, though it lacked the brightness it had carried last night. Either it had been a perk of the dream, she was a little more subdued in real life, or she was lacking a significant amount of energy she usually possessed. A closer look at her face indeed confirmed it to be the latter. She might have done a good job at covering up the bags under her eyes with concealer, but with his mother in the movie business and with his cousin being a model, Félix had his fair share of experience with makeup.

“Just how long did you keep practicing with Claude after I left?” He asked and threw her a judgmental look.

An embarrassed blush graced her cheeks and she mumbled something Félix didn’t quite catch.

“Pardon?”

“Basically the whole night, okay?” She finally admitted and immediately covered her mouth when a yawn escaped.

“Not to be petty, but _I told you so._ ”

Marinette shrugged. “I’m used to all-nighters. When I fix myself a strong coffee now I should be fine for the rest of the school day.”

“Or you could do the sensible thing and use the lunch break to take a nap. I’m sure I can find another establishment to eat at on my own.”

“Nonsense!” She said and he raised an eyebrow when she suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the other side of the street. 

Was she afraid he was going to run away? In any case, she had seemingly decided to physically drag him into the bakery at all cost. Her persistence reminded him of Claude and of Allegra on her stubborn days, which, if anything, made it oddly endearing.

“Is it customary to manhandle your guests like that?”

Marinette spluttered incoherently and released him so quickly it was as if she had burned herself.

After an awkward introduction to her parents—seemingly his reputation had also preceded him here and they weren’t too happy—the two of them went through the back and upstairs. Her house was mostly what Félix had expected it to look like, but he had to admit he was surprised by the food—it really _was_ quite good. 

Eventually, even Marinette’s parents joined them and he tried his best to keep up friendly conversation. And while he usually wasn’t one to play the half-orphan card, especially as it was a quite private matter, he had rightfully predicted it to be the topic that would shift the tides and eventually give them a reason for him acting out a month ago, if not convince them of his innocence. Looping the conversation immediately back to Marinette and their truce had the unintended side effect of relentless teasing. He was already used to such things from his own mother and Claude and knew how to keep expressing his embarrassment to a minimum. Marinette, with mortification written clear as day all over her face, wasn’t as lucky.

Félix tried his best to remember the hand motions involved in playing the simple melody of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on the recorder and eventually succeeded on his third attempt. While rationally not embarassing, it still felt somewhat undignifying to have to let Allegra reduce the difficulty of her barrier in order to let him enter _at all_. Frankly, though, he was thankful for the courtesy, especially on such short notice.

As quickly as he could, he stepped through his friend’s door and ended up in a concert hall. Félix immediately winced at the change from absolute silence to a noise level that tried its best to mimic a starting jumbo jet, just much more pleasant in tune. It wasn’t hard to spot Allegra either with her silver German flute among the orchestra and after a cutting hand gesture that let the room fall into silence, he unerringly headed in that direction.

Allegra looked around, confused, a little panicked and even upset, before she spotted him and let out a sigh.

“A dream?”

“A dream,” Félix confirmed. “Practising even in your sleep, are you?”

“ _You_ have absolutely _no_ room to talk!” Allegra said as she stood up and let the orchestra disappear in favour of her own room’s interior. “Now then, what is this ‘urgent matter’ you couldn’t wait to tell me about?”

Félix sat down next to her on her sofa and let out a sigh. “I found a love letter in my locker today.”

As expected, Allegra immediately started cackling. “ _That’s_ certainly a first!”

“Rude,” he huffed. “I believe it to be a prank, seeing how I don’t have the best reputation at this school. Still, on the off-chance that it _does_ happen to be genuine, I need advice.”

“You need advice, alright,” she sighed and Félix considered if he should feel insulted or embarrassed by it. “What does the letter say?”

“Not much. Just that this person wants to meet me in a restaurant after school tomorrow and that they’ll wear something blue. If it were London, I would consider simply not showing up, but this is Paris, so the stakes are different. The last thing I need is to upset someone by standing them up and causing yet _another_ Akuma. I’m on bad enough terms with Ladybug and Chat Noir after the last one as it is.”

Allegra nodded. “Well, it’s a win either way.”

“Please elaborate.”

“First, you get to try the food at this restaurant regardless of the outcome. Second, if the letter is real then you somehow managed to catch the attention of someone who seems to like you. Third, if this person is after your connection to your cousin or your money, you’ll be able to sniff it out immediately and know who at your school is fake. And fourth, if it is a prank and you fall for it, you’ll at least get to have the argument that, despite your flaws, you’re not someone to stand people up.”

Félix hummed, considering it. “Those are all good points. Let’s focus on the unlikely circumstance of the letter being real. How does one navigate a…date?”

Allegra snickered. “Usually I’d say ‘just be yourself’ but in your case that’s probably not the best advice. So, let’s be frank: you absolutely _suck_ at empathy, Félix, so try to be at least ten times as empathetic as you usually are.”

“Which includes…?”

“Compliments and not just rational assessments, banter, et cetera. Just try to feel what seems right for the situation.”

He nodded. He could do that. “Also, please do _not_ tell Claude about this until the evening when the presumed date will be over. I wouldn’t appreciate getting my phone spammed.”

“He’ll be mad to be the last to hear about it,” Allegra said with a grin.

Félix stood up. “Then he’ll have to deal with it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t gotten quite as much sleep as I wished last night and intend to catch up on it now,” he said and turned around to nod at her once more with his hand on her door handle. “Thank you for the advice, it’s appreciated.”

“No problem. Good luck on your date!” She said and he saw her wave before he went back out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.

Félix, like always after exiting a dream, needed a moment to reorient himself. His door had jumped to his right, about three doors down and he headed for it at a fast pace. When he arrived at the antique door with the lantern above it and took his keys out, he couldn’t help but let his eyes sweep over the doors in the corridor once more, before settling on the familiar pink door with the sign and the fairy lights. Marinette’s door was only five places down from his and not only very much closed, but he also didn’t see her in the corridor anywhere. 

_Good_ , he thought. _Looks like she took my advice at last and is catching up on sleep._

He turned around again and was in the process of unlocking the second lock when the sound of steps, much too quiet to be human, made him pause and turn around. The black cat was back and it wandered down the corridor with its tail up and intelligent eyes sweeping over the doors on either side. If it was, indeed, a ward, then it was wandering quite far away from its door, which he could see to his left three doors down. The feline then paused, looked at him and tilted its head. Félix suspiciously narrowed his eyes in response before returning to the task of unlocking his door. From the corner of his eye he could see that the cat had fallen into a sudden sprint and disappeared into the bend of the next corridor, definitely too far away from its door.

Credit had to be given where it was due: the restaurant was a quaint, silent thing with a potted southern European tree—an olive tree perhaps—in the middle. While Spanish wasn’t his preferred kind of food, Félix could at the very least appreciate the relaxing atmosphere and made a mental note to come back to the place in the future. It could be more relaxing, though, as he was unfortunately not the only one who had planned to visit the place on this Friday evening. At another table he could see two of Adrien’s friends—the reporter girl that he had accidentally gotten akumatised, and her boyfriend—who kept sending him glances from time to time. They probably thought themselves subtle, but subtlety, just like acting, was an art form that Félix excelled at. There was little that escaped him these days, such as the, also familiar, couple that entered the restaurant at that moment—a giant of a boy with his colourful-haired girlfriend—and sat down at a table that _coincidentally_ allowed them to watch him from an angle that reporter girl and her boyfriend couldn’t.

A prank then. Well, if he was forced to wait until at least seven, he might as well go through the menu and see if anything caught his interest. All the while, his phone buzzed with encouraging and inquiring messages from Allegra who had apparently misunderstood the concept of ‘not wanting to get spammed.’ He reported his most recent suspicions to her, before going through the section of the menu that advertised warm _tapas_. There were quite a few dishes that indeed sounded appetising and he was in the middle of deciding between _Calamares fritos_ and _Cabra con bacon_ , when the door to the restaurant opened and a figure in blue entered.

Félix raised his head and immediately recognised the girl as Marinette. He furrowed his brow.

_Why would Marinette_ …

He threw a _real_ subtle glance at the two spying couples and saw them both watching the noirette with badly concealed interest. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one that had been pranked.

“Marinette?” He called in a volume that was politely low but it still managed to make her jump. For a moment, she looked like a deer in headlights, before adapting a similarly confused look as he had only moments ago and walking over in a slightly hurried pace.

“Hey Félix, are you waiting for someone?” She asked as she stopped next to the table.

“Yes, I indeed am. Apparently I have a _secret admirer_.” Marinette’s eyes grew wide at those words, so Félix continued in a lower voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “Don’t look, but your reporter friend and some others are also here and have watched me with a lot of interest since I came in.”

Marinette sighed, sounding a little disappointed, and then sat down on the chair opposite him. 

“Well, I guess you waited for me then,” she said and rummaged around her purse before eventually pulling out a letter and handing it to him. 

Félix, in turn, pulled out his own letter and gave it to her to read. He had barely unfolded it and already scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“I can ease your worries, as I _definitely_ didn’t commit _this_ crime towards poetry. The metre is completely off. Embarrassingly so, even.”

Marinette snorted. “It’s even the same handwriting.”

“Whoever crafted this clearly lacks skills in more than just poetic measure,” Félix commented with a roll of his eyes before giving Marinette her letter back.

“So…what now?” She asked after pocketing it again.

Félix raised an eyebrow. “We order? You can have my menu; I am merely torn between two dishes and will ponder over it while you browse.”

Marinette paused, blinked at the offered menu in confusion for a moment, and then hesitantly took it.

“You actually want to go through with this…thing?”

He shrugged. “I expected to get a meal here anyway, might as well have pleasant company for it. I’ll pay of course.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Félix looked at her stubborn frown in surprise. “Pardon?”

“I can pay for my own meal, thank you very much. While I’m not rich like you, I’m not exactly poor either.”

“I must protest–”

“Then throw your tantrum quietly. I’m an independent lady and can handle my own business.”

Despite the rational tone of her voice, the amused smirk she tried to hide behind the menu didn’t escape him.

“You’re peculiar, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“And you’re old-fashioned Félix Graham De Vanily. Wow, your name really _is_ a mouthful.”

He couldn’t help but be amused by her quick wit. It was rare that someone besides Claude, Allen or even Allegra could shoot him down _and_ call him out without being outright rude in such few words. Well, Marinette was _a little_ rude, but he could see that she definitely meant it in jest. 

“Do you have a guess who set us up to this by the way?” She asked after a minute of quiet browsing but still didn’t lift her gaze from the menu.

“Well, considering how I got threatened by one Lila Rossi two days ago and the letters appeared in our lockers yesterday, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it was her.”

Marinette groaned. “I _told_ you to be careful around her and not get on her bad side.”

“While that advice is appreciated, I am not the type to submit to a ruler that didn’t achieve their title through respectable means. You see, there’s always a sort of hierarchy in schools and back in my school, there are people with genuine achievements that hold the position of popularity Rossi currently occupies here. In my humble opinion, it’s high time for a coup d’état.”

“A coup d’état with just the two of us, huh?”

“You seem to underestimate both yourself and me.”

“Alright, say it was Lila, which is very probable. What would she achieve with setting us up on a date?”

“Seeing how I threatened her with criminal charges, it seems she’s attempting to use me to drag your reputation down further. After all, if you are guilty and I am the innocent party in this, then I would have nothing to directly report. I assume something along the lines of you getting into the spotlight and fashion business through unethical means.”

“That’s a polite way to say that she wants to make others believe I’m dating you for the fame,” Marinette said and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I’m not surprised if that’s the case.”

“And she also seems to have tipped off others in the class so that she has witnesses for this _date_. Though it was quite bold of her to assume that both of us wouldn’t only show up but also go through with it.”

“Why _did_ you show up by the way? No offense, but you don’t seem like the type who’d just randomly decide to go on a blind date.”

“If this were any other place than Paris, then you would be right. As it stands, I certainly do not need further reasons for the local heroes to despise me by causing yet another Akuma.”

Marinette peeled her eyes off the menu to look at him surprised.

“I think _‘despise’_ is a strong word.”

Félix raised his eyebrows. “I offered to work with Hawkmoth to get my family’s heirloom back. While I do realise that Akuma victims are generally forgiven due to the mind control and amnesia, I doubt that someone lucid offering to cooperate with a terrorist is an excusable offense. Moreover, in my stubborn pursuit of revenge against Adrien, I borderline sexually assaulted the heroine of Paris. This isn’t something I should just be forgiven for.”

It had taken some bravery to face his very disappointed therapist back in London and, with his help, Félix had eventually realised his faults, especially the severity of the latter offense. After several therapy sessions and lots of research in his own time, it had eventually dawned on him just how ‘too far’ he had actually gone. Back then, he had tried to rationalise his actions as means to an end, but nothing, not even their prized family heirloom, was worth working with a terrorist for. And his unjustified revenge against Adrien definitely didn’t excuse the assault of an innocent girl—a public figure no less!

She winced. “Okay, you _were_ pretty bad.”

He rolled his eyes. “The understatement of the century. And while ignorance is little excuse, I must admit that I wasn’t as well-versed in the actual seriousness of Akuma attacks back then as I am now. What we hear of it in England is quite ridiculous honestly. The deaths that, while temporary, very much count as such, are rarely ever mentioned, so I severely underestimated the actual gravity of the situation. I will do my best to try to atone for it though.”

“That’s at least a step in the right direction,” Marinette said and immediately went back to browsing the menu. In the way she lifted it a tad higher than was strictly necessary, she probably tried to conceal her face with it. Most likely an expression of disgust after his gruesome confession.

“Why did you do it?” She eventually asked quietly. “Offering Hawkmoth your help, I mean. Was the heirloom _that_ important to you?”

Félix winced. “It seems tremendously stupid now, looking back. At the time, I was captured by the aberrant idea that my goal justified the means. Apart from getting back at Adrien for something that he, in retrospect, didn’t have any fault in, I also aimed to retrieve at least one of the twin rings for my mother. She barely has anything to remember her sister by and so the rings are very important to her. After also losing father this year, I thought stealing it for her could help her to work through the grief, especially since she wanted it more than any other memento. At that moment, working with Hawkmoth just seemed like a simple solution to my problem. Like I said, I wasn’t aware of just how much my misjudgment could have cost everyone.”

“But you’re aware of it now,” Marinette said, glancing at him over the top rim of the menu.

“Vaguely,” he agreed. “During my research, I couldn’t find what Hawkmoth actually wants with the jewellery. Some theories bring up clichés like world domination, but is a true reason actually known?”

“A wish,” she said after some hesitance. “The Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses grant a wish. With Creation and Destruction as a balance, I think that there must be a price for it, though. Depending on what Hawkmoth would wish for, people might die. Permanently.”

As if the guilt hadn’t been heavy enough already, it now weighed an extra ton. Félix absentmindedly fidgeted with the ring on his finger as he let his imagination run through all the things a supervillain could possibly wish for. What would _he_ wish for? Probably for his father to be alive again, but if balance needed to be maintained, it would probably mean that someone equally important to him would die for it. In the end, it wouldn’t be worth it.

“By the way, you haven’t told me yet why _you_ agreed to this blind date in the first place,” Félix said in a somewhat desperate attempt to break the silence and change the topic.

If possible, Marinette ducked even _more_ behind the menu.

“Well, uh, funny story,” she said, giggling nervously. “So, since Adrien is together with Kagami right now, I realised that it was the best to move on from him. Moving on is more difficult than I expected though, so I thought a blind date would be a good step in the right direction.”

“Ah, I see,” Félix said. “I’m sorry that your original plan has been ruined now.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. Just eating out with a…friend is nice too. Haven’t done that in a while.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the word ‘friend’ came across with much less certainty than it had the day before. Not that it came as much of a surprise. After all, he _had_ just recounted his highly criminal actions, so her sudden hesitance made sense.

Félix decided to just give an agreeing hum as a reply and then let silence take over once more. When a waiter came by, they finally ordered—Félix had decided on the _Cabra con bacon_ as a _tapas_ and a mixed _paella_ as the main dish for him and Marinette to share as they were apparently quite big—and then fell into a conversation about the differences between Paris and London. He recounted some anecdotes from undertakings with his friends from back home to ease the mood a little and after ten minutes, Marinette even let out a snort at one of his stories. More than that, she even went into her own retellings of silly adventures, some also involving his cousin.

The food finally came and they ate mostly in silence before Félix paused his meal to sigh. Ignoring the tension would just lead to uneasy sleep later, so better to get it over with now.

“I am…not quite certain how to even begin to apologize for all my actions from a month ago. And while I certainly do need to apologize to my cousin and the heroes separately, I also owe you an apology. Both as a victim of my tasteless revenge plot and as a citizen of Paris that had to endure one of the worst Akuma battles to date, number-wise at least.”

Marinette stared at him with a look of utter shock before eventually averting her eyes and biting her lip.

“Honestly, I’m not sure if I can forgive you for all that. At least not right away.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Félix agreed. “Still, I do owe you some sort of compensation…which might not be the best way to phrase this, now that I think about it. Nevertheless, do you happen to have an invitation to my uncle’s line launch party on Sunday?”

Marinette let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’m not exactly high society.”

“You do have quite the impressive resume though. A real one, unlike Lila Rossi.”

She shrugged and chewed another bite of the _paella_. “Alas, I’m still not invited.”

“Would you like to be though?”

She looked at him quizzically. “What are you playing at?”

“Technically nothing. I do believe that you deserve a chance to mingle with designers and other big names in the fashion industry though. And while this is quite the roundabout way of asking this, I would also quite enjoy your company on this no doubt dreadful get-together on Sunday.”

Marinette stared at him and didn’t say anything for a worryingly amount of time.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said eventually. “You just offered to take me to a line launch party of one of the biggest fashion houses in Paris as your plus one as _compensation_? Are you nuts?!”

“Uh…”

“That was rhetorical!”

“Forgive me if I offended you. I believed you would be excited about this opportunity.”

She sighed. “I _am_. But if I do this, we’d just feed whatever rumour Lila is going to tell the class.”

Félix rolled his eyes. “Don’t be absurd. While Adrien lacks the spine to vouch for you, you still have your accomplishments that more than qualify you for an attendance. Anyone can figure that out with a quick google search. If the class is incapable of doing so, or worse, even _forgetting_ your accomplishments and connections that they previously knew of, then there honestly is no hope left for them I’m afraid. Sabotaging this chance to make connections in the fashion industry only because it could slightly worsen a rumour that won’t exceed your class, is idiotic at best, and I’m very much under the impression that you’re anything but an idiot.”

Marinette grinned. “You’re doing an awful lot of arguing on my behalf here. What’s your other motivation to want me at this party?”

Félix huffed. “Nothing I will disclose in public. Regardless, I found it of utmost importance to point out your fit of irrationality as I very much prefer to be in the company of people of sound mind.”

“And there you are again, calling me an emotional nutcase.”

He choked on the bite he had just taken.

“That’s not what I meant to imply at all!”

The grin reappeared on her face. “Relax, I’m just teasing. Honestly though, it’s quite suspicious how you’re giving me preferential treatment. After all, the rest of the class was in the same boat as me. Or literally _on_ it in this case.”

Félix shook his head. “One: I already explained how I prefer informed company to those that show a confounding level of stupidity. Two: Seeing how the others sent simple well-wishes while you went for a love confession, you deserve more apology than the rest of them do. Last but not least, you are certainly the most involved in fashion in this class after my cousin and can therefore benefit from an opportunity like this.”

“Alright, fair. Can I think about it?”

“Of course. Though it _is_ the day after tomorrow, so it would be best to decide sooner rather than later. I won’t be offended if you decline, either, though that _would_ mean that I’d need to find a new form of apology.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You can’t just _buy_ my forgiveness with favours or other temptations. I’ll need some time to really get over it, but I’m willing to give you a second chance.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“Perhaps _too_ generous, but let’s just say you convinced me. The dream-thing definitely helped.”

Félix grinned a rare, genuine smile. “Dreams _are_ the best way to find out someone’s true colours, after all.”

“Not gonna lie, you’re _definitely_ a tricky bastard, Félix.”

That actually drew a laugh out of him. “How flattering of you.”

“But,” she continued, which immediately sobered him. “I also think that some people deserve a second chance and you definitely have potential and a lot of room for betterment.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complimenting or insulting me.”

“Maybe a little of both. You definitely deserve it.”

Marinette Dupain-Cheng truly _was_ an enigma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it important that while Félix understands his faults now, he is not instantly forgiven. Not saying that he doesn't deserve forgiveness, but like he said, his actions where quite severe and it will need time to build up the trust of the people he has done the most wrong to. Alas, Marinette is still on the fence about this whole friendship thing with him, but she's willing to give it a try and see where it goes.


	9. Date Night Lessons

Marinette critically regarded the marigolds in the hanging planter next to her door. Or rather the ladybugs crawling all over them. Try as she might, she just couldn’t manage to get rid of them, but she supposed this was at least the most subtle, when also unintentional, way to include her alter-ego in her door design. If anyone happened to ask, she’d at least have a logical explanation for it. The little dream bugs still had given her an idea though.

If she, as someone with access to the corridor and knowledge of how to change her door, couldn’t get rid of minuscule implications about her secret identity, then perhaps her partner and Hawkmoth couldn’t either. And since she hadn’t seen anyone in the corridor except for Félix, Claude and the occasional door wards, it was safe to assume that Chat Noir and Hawkmoth didn’t know about it either. Not that she was trying to find out her partner’s identity—especially not after the Chat Blanc thing—but if she happened to find Hawkmoth’s dream door she’d at least feel a small step closer to victory. How she’d get a personal possession of his, she had no idea, but one step forward was better than no step forward, even if it led to a dead end.

Marinette started inspecting the doors in her near vicinity for anything butterfly-related, petted the guard cat when she passed it, and was about to turn the corner into the next corridor—she had never gone into one of the side-arms before—when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She instantly spun around, grabbed her attacker’s arm and twisted it behind their back. Huh, apparently the Ladybug reflexes kicked in even in her dreams.

“Woah, woah, woah, _chill out_ Fashion Queen!” An English voice squawked and she immediately let Claude go, embarrassed.

“ _Sorry_!” She squeaked in French, before catching her blunder and continuing in English. “I didn’t mean to! You just surprised me.”

Claude righted himself again and waved it off.

“No harm done. I swear, though, you’re worse than Félix!”

“ _Pardon?_ ” Even though she pronounced it French, her indignation seemed to come across all the same.

“Yeah, he’s a crazy karate kid _,_ ” Claude said.

Huh, interesting. She had already seen a little bit of his skills at the Akuma fight that she _really_ didn’t need to be reminded of again, as it tore her conscience in all kinds of directions. Félix was right: describing his actions as _pretty bad_ had been an enormous understatement, seeing how he had fought an Akuma in hand to hand combat only to then offer Hawkmoth a deal. She couldn’t help but feel betrayed all over again.

“Hello? Marinette?” Claude was waving a hand in front of her face and she shook her head.

“Sorry, I uh…” zoned-out _,_ “thought about something.”

“By the way, I’m so _glad_ I ran into you! I was afraid I had to fight Chat Noir and the hamster just to get to you and ask!”

“Ask what? And don’t try to get into my dreams please. I can ask Félix to just give you my number.”

Claude seemed ecstatic at the suggestion.

“Yes!” He said and actually jumped in the air. “Anyway, what do you know about this secret admirer Allegra told us about? Tell me everything!”

Marinette snorted. “You mean the blind date prank?”

Claude nodded so enthusiastically that she would be worried about the state of his spine if this weren’t a dream.

“There isn’t a secret admirer. Félix and I both got those prank letters and just had a nice dinner. He also invited me to his uncle’s line launch party on Sunday.”

It should be worrying how wide Claude’s eyes went at that revelation.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” He said, gently but insistently grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the corridor until they stood in front of Félix’s door. 

Claude pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocked one of the locks and then started hammering wildly on the antique wood.

“Hey! You better come out right now or this will have consequences!”

“You have a key?” Marinette meanwhile asked, which made him stop assaulting Félix’s door and turn around to her with a grin.

“Yep! Allegra and Allen both have a key too so that when we knock, we can unlock one lock so Félix knows it’s us and not an impostor.”

“But I knocked a couple nights ago and he opened.”

“Yeah, because he was expecting you. Unless he adds another lock and gives you a key, I doubt this is gonna work a second time.”

The door opened without a creak and a very unamused Félix poked his head out.

“Are you _serious_ , Claude? I am trying to catch up on some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak!” Claude declared and pulled a squawking Félix out into the corridor.

“What the hell?!”

“I’m supposed to be the one asking this! You’re going on a date with Marinette?!” Claude exclaimed and motioned at her.

Marinette immediately blushed furiously and while she did her best to follow the conversation, Félix and Claude were speaking in such rapid and heavily-accented English—apparently so far they had been trying to accommodate her—that she only caught single words now and again. Those weren’t helpful to grasp the context either, though.

“Anyway _,_ ” Claude said at last and Marinette dearly hoped that she’d be able to understand them again now. “You’re continuing your blind date _now_.”

Her eyes grew wide. “It wasn’t a real date!” She tried to cut in, but Claude was having none of it.

“He has unsurprisingly _never_ had a date before,” he explained to Marinette. “This might be his only chance to experience a date night! Please teach him!”

“ _Excuse me?!_ ” She replied in French, thoroughly taken aback, and glanced at Félix who…was he blushing? In any case, he was _glowering_ at Claude.

“Please, Marinette? I’ll owe you one for this and you might even get back at him for being rude.”

“I wasn’t rude,” Félix muttered.

Claude threw him a deadpan look. “You’re _always_ rude, especially when you don’t notice.”

“I don’t know…” Marinette said and bit her lip. Going on a literal dream date with Félix really hadn’t been on her agenda for the night! “Can’t you, Allegra, and Allen teach him how a date night works? Why does it have to be me?”

“Because he wouldn’t take it seriously when it’s us, but since he doesn’t know you as well as he does us yet, he’ll be a lot more careful and might actually pay attention! Besides, you could practice dancing for the party on Sunday,” Claude said, probably trying to be tempting. 

Instead of the intended elation, dread settled in her stomach and she paled. 

“ _Dancing?!_ ” She squeaked in French and sent Félix a panicked look. 

He sighed. “ _No worries; I doubt dancing will be involved. It’s my_ uncle’s _party after all and he basically invented the word_ boredom _._ ”

“ _I can’t dance! I’d trip and then spill someone’s drink on their clothes and then I’ll be barred from the fashion industry forever for ruining a designer piece and my career will be over and I’ll have to live on the street and–_ ”

Two hands suddenly grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. “ _Calm. Down,_ ” Félix said. “ _None of that will happen because there won’t_ be _any dancing._ ”

“So, is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ to the date?” Claude asked obliviously.

Félix sighed in exasperation. “ _He’s not gonna let this go._ ”

“Does a date between friends also count?” Marinette asked Claude, which drew a choked noise out of Félix.

Claude gave her a thumbs up. “Yep, still counts!”

“Alright,” she said and then looked at Félix. “ _I’ll get Claude off your case for this and you owe me in return. Which means I’ll go to the line launch party with you as compensation, since my forgiveness for the stunt from a month ago isn’t easily won over like that._ And _you’ll tell me the_ real _reason for wanting me there in the first place since you didn’t want to tell me in public earlier._ ”

Félix sighed. “ _That’s fair, I suppose._ ”

“ _Besides,_ ” Marinette said with a sigh. “ _This might be our last chance at actually doing something nice before people are gonna hound us with all sorts of accusations._ ”

“ _True,_ ” he said and stepped back to his door. Claude stopped him though.

“Oh no, no, no,” he said. “You two are going through _that_ door!” He said and pointed at Marinette’s pink door only three doors down.

“Why?” Marinette asked.

“Because you’re supposed to teach him what a date night looks like and no doubt he will dream up the most boring things!”

Marinette bit her lip. Tikki had warned her how risky it was to let others enter her dreams, but so far she had had things pretty much under control, hadn’t she? During practice with Claude the other night she had even managed to become a pigeon for a few minutes. Surely she could control her _own_ dreams well enough, right? It would only be half an hour to an hour anyway. She could work with that.

“ _Fine,_ ” she said. “ _Lock your door so we can get going._ ”

Hopefully she wasn’t going to regret this.


	10. Mysterious Melody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, folks, I present to you: actual dreamwalking! Was about time!

Walking along the Seine at night without drunkards and other unpleasant people around, and especially without the river’s usual smell, certainly was something only possible within a dream. He had to commend Marinette for her creativity yet simplicity there.

“So, tell me the reason why you want me at this party so badly.” 

Félix sighed. There was no getting out of that now.

“You see this ring?” He said and showed her his hand that held one of the family heirlooms he had stolen a month ago. “It’s one piece of a pair. They’re called the Graham De Vanily Twin Rings and are not only famous, but also an important family heirloom. The very one I told you about earlier. My aunt was allowed to take them as wedding bands for herself and my uncle, but now that she’s gone, per our families’ agreement, the rings need to go back to the Graham De Vanily side of the family. Uncle doesn’t intend to return them to us, so I’m trying to make him value his promise through other means.”

“By stealing them,” Marinette concluded and while her expression _was_ judgmental, there was also something calculating about it.

Félix shrugged. “They’re my family’s property, so it technically wouldn’t be theft.”

“Okay, I get that. What do you need me for then?”

“An additional variable,” Félix said with a smirk. “Uncle expects me to steal his ring, but he won’t expect me to try it when I bring an extra person, moreover one he knows. He’ll let his guard down, which will make this much easier for me.”

“I’m supposed to be a distraction and your accomplice,” Marinette stated. “Have you also considered that if you manage to steal his ring, you’ll be the first suspect and that you’ll also put _me_ under scrutiny that way? I agree that your uncle is not the nicest person and kinda deserves getting robbed, but he’s still a big designer and could ruin my career.”

She brought up a good point there. Félix had to admit he hadn’t considered the consequences it could have for Marinette, only for him. 

“It seems like my plan needs some readjusting then. I’ll think of something and promise not to put your fashion career in jeopardy at the party.”

She sighed in what sounded like relief. “Good. Now, what does Claude expect from this _friend date_? He really sounded desperate back there.”

It was Félix’s turn to sigh. “I honestly haven’t the slightest clue. Though this is definitely a nice setting. I haven’t seen Paris at night in years now, especially not this clean.”

Marinette hummed. “I like the city at night. It has something special about it.”

He had to agree with her there. 

And as if to prove that point, from somewhere the soft plucks of a guitar could suddenly be heard. Félix just hoped that this outing wouldn’t be getting too…uh… _romantic_. As much as Claude had emphasized on it being a _date_ and quite ludicrously suggested he _give Marinette a chance_ , Félix had absolutely no intention of letting this escalate any further in that direction.

When soft singing joined the guitar music, Félix turned his head to find its source—if it even had one; dreams were just chaotic like that. He didn’t need to search for long. There, on a boat on the Seine sat a teenager with…well, to call his clothing _atrocious_ might overdo it a little, but it still wasn’t something Félix himself would be caught dead wearing. Furthermore, those blue dyed hair tips in addition to the clothes and the cluttered house boat itself that just…said enough about the social status of this person that Félix knew him to be beneath him.

Marinette, beside him, squeaked. When Félix glanced at her she was beet-red and frantically waving her hand, making the boat and guitar-guy disappear in a cloud of fog. He raised his eyebrows at that but didn’t ask further. Her relation to such a… _person_ , wasn’t any of his business. Alas, she seemingly misunderstood his silence.

“T-that was Luka, sorry. I just concentrated on the Seine and…uh…he seemed to be included in that image. Sorry.”

Félix nodded, mentally filing the name away to remind himself to never make his acquaintance. Once again, Marinette mistook his silence for judgment on _her_. 

“We tried dating a few weeks ago, but only went on two dates. They were both absolute disasters though. In the end, we both realised that not only was it too early for me to move on, but that we also didn’t click well enough to make it work, either. We both like Jagged Stone,” what a terrible choice of music, “but besides that and a few other characteristics, that’s basically where the things we have in common end. I know that it’s good for people to have different interests, but ours were just…too different. Music is basically Luka’s whole life and while I tried my best, I _really_ am not a very musical person. Heck, I can’t even read sheet music! And while he supports my designing, he just can’t relate to the part of fashion that isn’t the designing progress itself.”

Despite not personally knowing that Luka guy, the last bit came as no surprise to Félix.

“If compatibility is your concern, then please enlighten me on why you love my cousin so deeply.”

Marinette bit her lip but stayed silent. Félix frowned. Perhaps he had overstepped a line there.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal of a question. I’m merely curious how someone who isn’t attracted to superficiality would fall for Adrien.”

_That_ broke her silence.

“Adrien isn’t superficial!” She almost _snarled_ and he was taken aback by how absolutely _vicious_ she suddenly looked. “He’s shouldering so much and he _still_ smiles and helps others! I know when he’s faking and trying to act tough or unbothered because he’s under constant scrutiny, and I just wish I…or I guess now Kagami, could help give him a break so that he could express what he really feels. He’s such an incredible person, always believing in the good in people and giving them a second chance, even if they don’t deserve it.”

“Like with Lila?”

Marinette actually _flinched_ and their surroundings momentarily flickered to what looked like the school yard with Lila and her entourage in the background. He couldn’t make out more details before everything changed back to the setting of nighttime Paris.

“My sincerest apologies for overstepping your boundaries. I should have realised it to be a sore topic and it’s certainly not my place to ask you such things.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. You’re right about it, you know?” A sigh. “It’s just…just hard to accept that I seem like only a secondary worry after Lila to a lot of people I once called my friends. Even to Adrien, and he _knows_ that she’s a liar!”

Félix usually would prefer to not get involved and just mind his own business. Unfortunately, he already _was_ involved, even though not through a choice of his own, and the next strategic step there was to acquire more information.

“May I ask what exactly happened between you and Lila that made her so hostile towards you in particular?”

Marinette sighed again and then, to his surprise, took his hand and dragged him to the door of a nearby shop. It wasn’t her dream door, though. 

“It might be easier if I showed you,” she said as they walked through, but instead of entering a shop, ended up in the school’s library. 

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her but she just motioned him to stay silent and watch. Félix’s gaze followed the direction in which she was pointing and he spotted his cousin sitting at a desk, his head in a quite heavy and ancient-looking tome. Only moments later Lila appeared and started acting unsurprisingly unbearable. The Adrien of whenever this incident had happened, unlike his present counterpart, seemed to buy her lies hook, line and sinker when she said that she knew _Ladybug_ of all people. After Lila stole Adrien’s book, their surroundings changed to the park where they both hid behind a tree with a perfect view of Lila on a bench. 

Félix let out a horrified wince when that snake actually _threw the book into the trash!_ This was an old, worn thing, in need of care and delicate handling to preserve it—Félix had many such books himself and couldn’t help but be absolutely appalled. If he hadn’t despised Lila before, then he definitely did now.

The thing that played out afterwards was…interesting, to say the least. While his cousin was as gullible as he had always known him to be, it was Ladybug that surprised him the most. Not only did she show up at all, but she also chewed out Lila in an unnecessarily blunt, accusing way. It stood in stark contrast to what _he_ had personally seen of the collected and calculating heroine. Though this at least explained how she knew Adrien enough to state that ‘he wasn’t that pushy.’ Who knew how many more encounters after this one they had had? 

“She got akumatised into _Volpina_ after this,” Marinette said and pointed at the meteor falling from the sky. “Illusions to make her lies seem like a reality.”

“How disgustingly fitting,” Félix huffed.

“Did you look up past Akuma battles by the way?”

He nodded. “I did a fair bit of research after encountering some in the flesh, yes.”

“Then you know what happened on Heroes’ Day before the multiple Akumas hit?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the details down. Please help me out a little.” He gestured at the park around them.

Marinette winced. “I hate this part,” she muttered and suddenly the scene changed to show what looked like an akumatised Ladybug fighting Chat Noir and…oh. Yeah, seeing one of their heroes _disintegrate_ would probably give anyone nightmares. 

When the spectacle was over, Marinette stared at him expectantly. For a moment he could just throw her a puzzled stare back, but then suddenly, it clicked.

“An illusion.”

She nodded. “We had a few Akumas that could make unreal things reality, even nightmares, but Volpina is the only Akuma up until that point that could create something _this_ deliberate. It mostly got swallowed in the mayhem that happened afterwards, but it just wouldn’t stop bothering me.” 

“You think Volpina did that?”

“Yes. And she did it at a time where Lila was supposed to be in some tropic country. We had a live call with her in class earlier that very day.”

Félix huffed. “ _Really?_ The teachers didn’t even check with her parents about out-of-country travel during the school year? Pathetic.” 

“That’s not all,” Marinette said. “You see, the superheroes’ patrol routes cross my house, so I was able to wave down Ladybug one night and ask her if she purified any butterflies before the Scarlet Moth battle. She _didn’t._ Usually, when someone gets akumatised, she purifies the butterfly and when she doesn’t, it multiplies and creates an army of look-a-likes to help the Akuma. There hadn’t been any records of Hawkmoth withdrawing a butterfly himself until the Heart Hunter fight three weeks ago and that was a strategic move. This means that Lila got akumatised _and_ deakumatised by Hawkmoth. Most likely intentionally.”

“Which means she could be aiding a terrorist,” Félix concluded.

“Let me show you something that solidifies that theory,” Marinette said and suddenly they were in the classroom.

Everyone had changed their seats to accommodate Lila, leaving Marinette all alone in the back, no matter how much she argued. Then Lila appeared, grand lies and all and was being her regular infuriating self. 

A slightly disorienting skip to the cafeteria followed, where a dream version of Marinette tried to convince her friends that the Italian was, indeed, lying. Félix had to run a hand down his face in absolute exasperation when Lila claimed that a _napkin_ could have gorged the eye out of the kid wearing _glasses_. Not only did everyone buy this, but they also turned on Marinette like she had just attempted to murder someone. That was…definitely strange. He had never seen such a vast collection of stupidity in one room.

“So, how is this proving our theory that Lila works for Hawkmoth?” Félix asked and Marinette took his hand again to drag him out of the cafeteria. When they landed in the _girl’s bathroom_ of all places, Félix was about to protest, but the scene that unfolded before him was much too important to be bothered by his surroundings. Lila was _threatening_ Marinette in the same smoothly malicious voice in which she had threatened _him_ just a couple of days ago. It ended with Lila leaving the bathroom very smugly and clearly happy with herself, while Marinette let the dream-Marinette disappear.

“It was bad,” she said, her voice quiet. “So bad that a butterfly went after me.”

Félix looked at her in horror. “You were an Akuma?” He must have missed this in his research.

She shook her head. “No, but almost. I was able to calm down enough and it flew away. Shortly after though, _Lila_ was akumatised into _Chameleon_ —another way to make her lies a reality. But you saw what she looked like when she left the bathroom. That wasn’t the face of someone in distress.”

“Which means that she might have willingly gotten akumatised,” Félix concluded.

Marinette nodded. “At the end of the day she gave me an ultimatum. I was either with her or against her. Obviously I chose the latter, so she _promised_ she’d take all my friends and Adrien away from me. We’ve been at war since then.”

“Petty lies don’t seem like much of a _war_ to me. Was there more?”

Marinette _finally_ dragged him out of the bathroom and they proceeded to walk down the hallway.

“She planted test answers into my bag in a class where I usually got a high score. I answered everything correctly and Lila, deliberate or not, had the worst score in the class. When an _anonymous note_ showed up and I had to show my bag to prove I was innocent, my argument that Lila planted the sheet fell on deaf ears. We both got sent to the principal’s office and that’s when _this_ happened.”

Another dream version of her and Lila appeared, this time on the first level where their classroom was. The liar walked down the steps, laid down on the floor, and suddenly started screaming bloody murder.

“My parents got called to the school and no one believed that I didn’t push Lila down the stairs. After that, she claimed I stole a family heirloom from her, a necklace she planted in my locker, and well…”

The scene changed to the locker room where absolute chaos broke loose as soon as Marinette opened her locker which indeed had a necklace in it. The incompetent principal declared expulsion and things started to get worse from there. So much worse, in fact, that a _swarm_ of Akumas showed up, getting several people _including_ Marinette.

“We got lucky,” she said when the connection to Hawkmoth simultaneously seemed to break for everyone. 

“It seems that both times the red Akumas showed up, Lila was the instigator of mass distress. This really adds to the theory that she’s working for him,” Félix said thoughtfully. 

Just like that, the room cleared and the noise dissipated, leaving them in an eerily empty locker room.

Marinette sighed. “Now you’re pretty much caught up, though those were just the highlights.”

“The situation appears to be much more serious and especially dangerous than I first gave it credit for. I apologize for not heeding your warning well enough.”

She shrugged. “You couldn’t have known and you also don’t seem like a person who’d just take someone’s word for it.”

“You’re correct with that assumption. Either way, my mother is already looking into possible legal actions for thievery and defamation, especially regarding minors. We could additionally try to gather as much evidence as possible about the expulsion case and especially about the red butterfly incidents, so that a Court can handle this rather than us.”

Marinette threw him a tired smile. “I already tried that, trust me. People just seem to stop being able to think clearly when it comes to Lila.”

He huffed. “That’s absurd.”

“Feel free to tire yourself out. It’s almost freaky.”

“Not _almost_ ,” Félix grumbled.

A moment of mutual silence descended on them in which he let the new information sink in further. It had certainly been _a lot_ more than he had previously predicted with a much bigger emotional toll attached to it.

“It seems like this _friend date_ has veered a little too far from the pleasantness it was intended to create,” he eventually said.

Marinette flushed and looked to the ground. “Sorry, it’s my–”

“Nothing to apologize for. I started this by asking about the nature of this conflict in the first place. Nevertheless, I suggest we occupy the rest of the time with more pleasant activities. For one, your fear of dancing is a little odd. Am I correct in the assumption that you haven’t ever been taught any steps?”

She seemed a little startled at the sudden change of topic before biting her lip and shaking her head.

“Well then, allow me to teach you a simple waltz at least. That should ease your anxiety a little at the very unlikely event of a dance being part of Sunday’s party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a fan of Luka, so I snuck in minor salt while also making the prompt work.


	11. Ballroom Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Félix teaches Marinette a simple waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I don't know _the first thing_ about dancing. In order to write this chapter at all, I had to go to my sister, who takes partner dancing classes, and let her show me how a simple waltz works. So, all this information here is from my sister. If there are inaccuracies, blame her ~~and point them out to me because I want to be accurate.~~

This night had taken such a bizarre turn that Marinette wondered if she wasn’t dreaming alone after all, with her brain spinning all kinds of nonsense. For as unbelievable as it was, she surely would have laughed if anyone had even _suggested_ to her only hours before that Félix would offer her _dancing lessons._ Yet here she was, nodding her head _because why not_.

“First, what are you planning to wear to the party?”

She froze. “I…haven’t thought about that yet.”

Usually she needed some time to even pick out clothes for regular special occasions, so this was _a lot_ to ask of her. Marinette would probably brood over her wardrobe _all day long_ before being able to decide on something that wouldn’t just represent her in front of several big names in the fashion industry but also fit the theme of the party. Oh god, what if there was a very specific theme that she didn’t have anything for?! There was no time to sew a completely new ensemble and she also couldn’t just buy store clothes when she wanted to convince anyone of _her_ skills!

“If you cannot decide right away, then simply settle on your current first choice. It’s not like I’m going to _force_ you to wear it on Sunday, you can still change your mind,” Félix said, drawing her out of her spiralling thoughts.

Marinette took a deep breath. Just her first choice? Well, she could do that much at least. After a short moment of concentrating on every fold and detail she could remember, she was wearing the dress she had made at the beginning of the year. As soon as she had unpacked the roll of black, faintly glittering but still soft fabric on Christmas, she had known what she had wanted to make of it and spent the rest of the Christmas holidays tirelessly working on the formal dress. She had waited for an opportunity to wear it and this seemed fitting…though was it really good enough work? She’d definitely need to make some changes here and there to make it even more perfect, but even then would it be worthy of such an event? Félix’s critical gaze didn’t exactly help matters either.

“I-is it appropriate for the party?” She asked uncertainly.

He smirked. “If _this_ is what you can do at the age of fifteen, then I’m almost scared to find out how much you’ll improve when you get older. You better open up your own fashion house after university and run Uncle out of business.”

Marinette giggled nervously. “I don’t think it’s quite _that_ good.”

Félix rolled his eyes. “Artists,” he huffed. “Always so self-deprecating. In any case, this dress more than suffices for the occasion.”

“Th-thanks,” she stammered. 

Why was she so shy all of a sudden? Was it because he was about to show her how to dance a waltz and she had never really danced with anyone before? There had been that one time at Chloé’s party where she had danced with Adrien, but that had been more swaying while hugging than a real dance. And different as the two might be, Félix _still_ looked eerily similar to Adrien and a small part of her brain was in a constant state of confusion from that fact alone.

“So, when it comes to dancing I suggest we move to a different location. The locker room isn’t _quite_ wide enough of an area, nevermind the obstructions.”

Marinette flushed at the revelation that they _still_ were at school and quickly imagined the first big open space she could think of.

Félix looked around appreciatively. “You really like Paris at night, don’t you?”

They were at the Louvre palace, in front of the lit-up pyramid to be precise, and unlike its usually busy state it was completely void of people. Marinette often loved to sit on the roof of the palace with Chat Noir after patrol and just people-watch—they usually made a game out of it. She quickly shook her head.

_Focus!_

The last thing she needed right now was to accidentally imagine her partner.

“Alright, so where do we start?” She asked and tried very hard not to panic at the fact that Félix was standing _very close_ to her. The last time that had been the case she had punched him in the face and she was more than ready to do it again if he gave her a reason to.

“The position. First, put your left hand on my right shoulder,” he instructed and at the same time made a move as if he was about to put his hand on her left shoulder blade, but hesitated. “My apologies, is it alright if I touch you? This could become quite complicated if not.”

Marinette bit her lip, considering the option to just forget about the entire thing. He had asked for her permission, which was definitely a huge step-up from when he had tried to kiss her a month ago. It seemed like he was really trying to do better and, well, a free dance lesson was a free dance lesson! She nodded but barely even felt the touch of his hand—was that the dream's doing or was he just being _that_ considerate?

“Now, take one step back with your left foot,” Félix said, snapping her out of her ponderings.

She followed his instructions as he stepped forward with his right foot.

“Side-step to the right,” he said and mimicked the movement with a sidestep to the left.

“One step forward with your right foot now.”

He stepped back with his left foot while she did so.

“And now a side-step to the left to close the circle.”

They stopped.

“That’s _it_?” Marinette asked, astonished with how easy it actually was.

There was a small smile on Félix’s face. “I _did_ say it was simple, didn’t I? This set of moves gets repeated and usually the pair turns in a circle and dances through the room while doing it.”

“Ah, and _that_ would be the complicated part, wouldn’t it?”

“Not really. There are certainly forms with a higher difficulty than it. Let’s practice that set of steps until you don’t have to look down on your feet anymore.”

Marinette wasn’t sure if her clumsiness just didn’t exist in her dreams or if she was just getting the hang of it much quicker than she thought she would. In any case, it only took a minute or two until she didn’t have to watch her feet anymore, even when the steps became quicker.

“Now that you have gotten accustomed to that, it’s customary for a waltz to not look directly at your partner, but rather over their left shoulder.”

“Why?” Marinette asked, though she did as asked.

“I guess etiquette forbade it back in the day and the feature has just carried on to modern times even though social norms have long-since changed.”

“Are there any other waltz customs I should know about?”

“Yes. Dance partners are usually not held at arm-length,” Félix said somewhat awkwardly. “It is fine if you’re not comfortable with that though.”

Marinette’s relief for an easy out and her stubbornness to do things correctly battled inside her. On the one hand, she was still not entirely comfortable being this close to Félix. On the other hand, however, he was actively trying to improve and she should definitely encourage that behaviour. Besides, if dancing closely was the proper way to do it and she’d someday get in a situation where she had to dance a waltz with someone, it would help to have done it correctly at least once.

“Oh…uh…sure. Sorry,” she stammered and felt her cheeks heating when she stepped closer. It felt…surprisingly okay. No squirmy feeling arose inside her like it had the last time and the thought of decking him was far away at best. Unlike back then, he wasn’t crowding her and instead seemed careful and especially respectful with every little touch and step. Definite improvement! 

The two of them danced around the Louvre pyramid, waltz music even starting to play from an unknown source—it must have been Félix because she neither knew the song nor had the concentration necessary to keep it going _and_ not step on his feet at the same time. It wasn’t exactly awkward, but Marinette was still fumbling with the novelty of the very unexpected situation. She stole a few quick glances at his face before quickly looking over his shoulder again. From up close he didn’t look _that_ similar to Adrien, she realised. After studying her—hopefully soon _former_ —crush in detail for almost two years she knew embarrassingly much about the way Adrien Agreste looked like. A fact she was all too thankful for now, because all those little things others would have probably never noticed, were the features that were different or missing on Félix. He didn’t have dimples, his eyes were a slightly darker shade—more like a summer forest rather than a spring meadow—his hair was shorter, his ears slightly bigger, his jawline less soft. The more glances she stole, the more she noticed and the more reassured she felt…though she didn’t know why she felt _that_ feeling in particular. 

“You’re doing remarkably well for your first time dancing,” Félix said after what was hopefully two minutes and not two hours—it was incredibly hard to tell time within a dream.

“T-thanks,” she stammered, suddenly feeling flustered. “It’s probably because I’m not as clumsy in a dream as I am in real life.”

Marinette definitely wasn’t used to being in this close proximity to a guy…or at least she wasn’t as a civilian and it was slightly disorienting. With Chat Noir there was never a problem, as things like _personal space_ were practically non-existent in the line of crime fighting. Tackles, tight enclosed spaces where she had to stop him from getting a panic attack, the few times she tangled them up in her yo-yo string by accident, casual lounging around after patrol—all of that contributed to her being desensitised to being very close to him without even thinking about it. Like an epiphany, she suddenly remembered that one time where she _had_ actually danced with her partner before. 

It had been a silly suggestion of his at first on their one year anniversary as heroes. How so often with those types of things however, the silliness had turned into a challenge and then into rounds of laughter when they had taken turns stepping on each others’ feet—mostly on purpose to see who could dodge the other’s foot in time. Back then, it hadn’t been a waltz, probably hadn’t been any real dance at all, but they had been close, had kept to a vague form of steps, and had just danced the better part of an hour away on a rooftop, out of sight from the prying eyes of Paris and bathed in the fading twilight. 

“Is there any reason in particular why we’re suddenly on a rooftop?”

Marinette startled and looked around. She had let her memories get away with her and so their surroundings had subconsciously changed from the Louvre to that very rooftop bathed in that very twilight. While in the middle of furiously thinking about a very good explanation for this, a noise she knew like the back of her hand made her freeze and abandon the dance altogether.

Someone else probably wouldn’t have noticed the silent steps at all that she heard so very often before being tackled to the ground or, equally as often, jumping out of the way in time. She decided on neither for right now, begging the source of the noise to just disappear. In her panic, she made the mistake of turning around and there he was: Chat Noir in all his glory, typical smirk in place with the glimmering kitten eyes that had so very often convinced her to all sorts of things already.

 _Disappear. Disappear. Disappear,_ she thought frantically, but the mental strength she had scratched together earlier to replay and relive the illusion of her partner getting disintegrated had long since left her.

Chat Noir fell into his usual bow. “Good evening, my lady,” he said. “Surely you weren’t planning to replace your favourite dancing partner, were you?”

Marinette internally cursed her subconscious into a black hole. Wait, no black holes! The last thing she needed right now was for one to _actually_ show up. Dying a horribly painful death like that was _not_ on her agenda for tonight either, not even in a dream. The thought definitely did nothing to quell her panic.

“Go away, Chat!” She said and frantically waved at him to at least jump off the roof or…or _anything_! 

He didn’t, in fact, go away though.

“ _Meow_ ch, is that my greeting for tonight?”

“Yes it is,” she said through gritted teeth, her tone now clearly desperate. 

Alright, fine. If she couldn’t get rid of her crime fighting partner, then she just needed to get rid of her dance partner. Fortunately, she spotted her pink door as the rooftop exit door and didn’t hesitate to shove Félix in its direction.

“I’m serious, go _away_ you alley cat!” She said in a last attempt and did the next best thing she could think of to make him disappear: Imagine a closed zipper over his mouth.

“Thanks for the dance lesson,” she meanwhile said to Félix, much more tense, panicky and rushed than the statement deserved. “And for the talk and stuff, but _PLEASE_ JUST FORGET THIS OKAY?! GOODNIGHT!”

Marinette didn’t hesitate to open her door, shoving Félix through it. After slamming it shut she heavily leaned against it and slid to the ground. The next order of business was to throw a glare at Chat Noir.

“If that compromises my identity, then it’s your fault, subconscious!”

Chat Noir raised an eyebrow and pointed at her.

She gave him a quizzical look before letting her line of sight travel downward and freezing on the spot. Sometime between imagining the roof and shoving Félix out the door, her subconscious must have decided to change her attire quite dramatically. No longer was she wearing the glittery black dress but instead her eyes fell on her _superhero suit_.

Marinette buried her face into her hands in absolute horror. Tikki had been right. She _really_ shouldn’t have taken Félix into her dreams with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are many kinds of reveals in this fandom, but very rarely have I ever seen a _dream_ reveal. So, like the opportunist I am, I didn't let this chance slide. c:<


	12. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very very loose prompt usage, I'm sorry ;w;

When their car stopped in front of the bakery and Félix greeted Marinette with a polite yet slightly strained smile, there was no sugarcoating the fact that the girl was a nervous wreck. She kept squeaking and the few sentences she did get out were stammered messes. Not that he blamed her in the slightest. On top of going to a very prestigious event, there had also been quite a lot of revelations on her end that they so far hadn’t had any opportunity to discuss in sufficient detail. Or at all, for that matter. He hadn’t dared to text or call her all of yesterday, not knowing what would be the right thing to say in this kind of situation and she, in turn, had done neither of those things as well—except for a very short and clipped exchange about when he should pick her up.

It made the entire car ride tremendously awkward, especially since his mother tried her best to let conversation flow—a conversation she carried almost entirely by herself and that mostly consisted of ranting about her brother-in-law. After ten minutes of being stuck in traffic and five more because his mother had frightened them all quite a bit by getting the lanes confused and almost causing an accident—she was used to driving on the left side after all—they finally arrived at the mansion. At least the shock from the latter situation succeeded in letting the awkwardness wear off a bit and Marinette instantly seemed much more awake.

“It’s basically a terrible family reunion, in a way,” Félix said as they got out of the car and he offered her his arm—she accepted it somewhat hesitantly.

“Really?” She asked, her eyes glued on the mansion.

“Oh, dearie, you have _no_ idea!” His mother said with a dramatic sigh. “Gabriel is an absolutely _horrible_ host. Usually he is absent from his own parties and lets Nathalie or Adrien do the socialising for him. He even did that when Emilie was still around!”

The three of them climbed the steps to the front door and entered without much trouble. So far, so good. The foyer was empty with the exception of Nathalie—she seemed to be the sole greeting committee—but the familiar murmur that could only stem from a myriad of conversations a few walls away suggested that the party was held in the ballroom. 

“Welcome Madame and Félix Graham De Vanily…and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?” 

Marinette grimaced next to him when Nathalie checked her tablet.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not on the guest list.”

His mother rolled her eyes. “No worries Madame Sancoeur, she’s our plus one.”

“There are no plus ones allowed at this party.”

“What is Gabriel going to do about it? Throw us out?” 

Nathalie’s expression didn’t move an inch. “Not you, but your _plus one_.”

Félix sighed, already annoyed. “Interesting. So someone whose work was featured in Uncle’s latest big fashion show wasn’t invited and is told to go home as soon as she steps through the door. I’m sure the press would be quite interested in that piece of information.”

He saw the secretary’s eyes narrow slightly before she gave a sigh of her own and stepped aside.

“Fine, I’ll permit it. But only this one time.”

He didn’t waste a second to lead Marinette past Nathalie—giving her no opportunity to change her mind—and into the hallway that unmistakably led to the ballroom, judging by the ever-increasing noise level.

“Always so uptight,” his mother scoffed as she walked beside them. “Now be careful to steer clear of Gabriel, sweetie. We don’t want him to suspect anything.”

Félix rolled his eyes. “Seeing as I’m not technically _planning_ anything for tonight, he has no reason to suspect me.”

“And after _that_ just now I’m not really thrilled to meet him either,” Marinette added with a cringe.

“Oh, no worries, dearie. I’ll make sure to tear him a new one for the audacity of excluding you. Now go and have fun,” his mother said with a wink as they walked into the ballroom.

Just as expected, she immediately left them in favour of snatching a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and striding away to converse with people in elaborate dresses and expensively-tailored suits. His own first step at such parties usually was to get an overview of the crowd, so a secluded corner like the table with petits fours was ideal. Basically any location where he could watch his surroundings without anyone starting a conversation with him.

“How did you know about the fashion show thing?” Marinette asked while they started moving to the buffet table.

“You know, if it wasn’t for you being used to no one around you doing their research, this comment would have been downright insulting. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

She blushed and looked away. “Right,” she said before grabbing a macaron and chewing on it with more concentration than anyone would ever attribute to the action. 

Félix himself opted for a dark chocolate petit four—macarons were too atrociously sweet for his tastes—and then proceeded to match the faces he saw to the guest list he had gone through. Monsieur Guilbeaux and his wife Breaelle stood closest to them and were wrapped in what sounded like a tremendously boring conversation about fabric choices. Marinette, upon noticing them, perked up and tried, without much success, to indiscreetly listen in. 

Then there were other big names, some of which he had already encountered personally on movie premieres with his mother, others he had only ever seen articles or interviews from and then, fewest of them all, were the unknowns he had never heard of before. He surmised that it was because their lines of work just didn’t cross with that of his mother, which was fairly likely regarding the prestigious-looking Asian lady sitting in the corner. She had glasses on and a cane resting beside her.

_Ah, she’s blind._

He was about to let his view sweep the room further when the call of his and Marinette’s names made him turn his head in the other direction. Marinette actually let out a quiet meep-like sound, followed by choking and coughing when she saw his cousin approach together with…so _that_ was his girlfriend. What was her name again? Kagura? 

“Hey Marinette! What are you doing here?” Adrien asked with a smile so wide that his Uncle would no doubt scowl at him if he happened to see.

“Oh, h-hi Adrien and Kagami,” Marinette stammered out when she had mostly managed to swallow the macaron. “I’m…uh…actually not supposed to be here but–”

“She’s my plus one,” Félix interrupted her. “Nathalie informed us that this isn’t technically allowed.”

Kagami frowned. “That’s not right. There are several people here who brought companions with them that aren’t on the guest list. Madame Forquer even brought her little daughter.”

“Guess Uncle is trying to disadvantage our family then. Not that I’m surprised,” Félix said with an eye roll.

“It’s interesting that you’d bring a plus one at all though,” Adrien said and suddenly crossed his arms.

“Congratulations for not being a _complete_ idiot then. I just thought that some company for this dreadful event would make it less insufferable and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng here has shown that she has the class and integrity befitting such a get-together.”

Kagami nodded sagely. “I agree with that assessment. You have chosen well.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re just dressing that up. I wasn’t the _best_ choice, Félix, I was your _only_ choice.”

“Bold of you to assume that Allegra wouldn’t have packed her bags and come to Paris if I’d have asked.”

“Bold of you to assume that Claude wouldn't have done so instead, which is probably why you asked me, to spare you the spectacle.”

He had to admit that she had a point there. Claude _absolutely_ would have tried to pull that stunt _again_ , if solely to embarrass Félix and to get some free fancy food out of it.

“Who are these people you’re speaking of? I believe I haven’t met them yet,” Kagami said while Adrien stayed uncharacteristically silent and eyed him and Marinette sceptically. It was a little unnerving, to be honest.

“My acquaintances from London,” Félix replied. “I told Marinette of them and she got to know them a little over the past couple of days via a group chat.”

For some reason, Adrien looked stricken and, if he dared to say, _guilty_.

“You have friends and text them in a group chat?” His cousin asked in a tone that made it abundantly clear that he had trouble believing it.

“It is quite surprising how much more there is to a person when you _ask_ instead of _assume_ , isn’t there?” Félix replied, admittedly a little scathingly. It was frankly quite annoying how people kept assuming him to have no friends solely based on his attitude.

“Okay, you two, cut it out. The last thing we need is to start a fight and be thrown out for real,” Marinette said and walked in between them.

Adrien immediately sighed in defeat.

“Seriously, can we talk about that sometime?” He looked around the full ballroom. “Not now though, but in private? And you too Marinette?”

Marinette’s and Kagami’s eyebrows shot up in almost perfect sync. 

“M-me?” She asked, clearly confused.

“Yeah, it’s…uh,” Adrien stammered, fidgeting. Before he could find his words though, like out of nowhere, Gabriel himself suddenly appeared like a looming icicle.

“Adrien, you are supposed to entertain the guests,” he said with a voice as icy as his stare and Félix could see how Adrien actively tried to avoid flinching.

“And we do not count as guests all of a sudden? How rude, Uncle.”

One couldn’t say that Gabriel Agreste wasn’t a man who learned from his mistakes. The entire time, he held his hands tightly clenched behind his back and even turned in an angle that wouldn’t allow Félix to see if he wore a ring or not. Marinette, though, had a clear view from her position, and just as he had suspected, his Uncle’s attention was focused on him, not on his plus one.

“Félix,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I certainly hope you came returning what you misguidedly took last time?”

“Seeing how I never _misguidedly_ took anything from this place, I regrettably don’t have a clue what you’re insinuating.” 

The two of them were locked in a cold staring contest for about ten seconds before his uncle’s gaze drifted to Marinette.

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?” He asked, as if only now noticing her and her presence being a very displeasing surprise. “I don’t believe you’re on the guest list.”

“Oh, I’m…here with Félix?” 

He hadn’t thought his uncle’s eyes could get narrower and frostier, yet here they were.

“I did not allow the Graham De Vanilys to bring a plus one.” 

“So, you admit to actively discriminating against my mother and me. Intriguing,” Félix said. “Do you plan to throw me and my companion out now? That would _certainly_ be an interesting move of yours, Uncle. Especially _interesting_ to your critics, wouldn’t you think? ‘Gabriel Agreste throws out his own nephew and companion’ has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it? I’m sure some journalists can come up with even better headlines, and how fortunate that there are some of them right here at this party. Should I go ahead and ask them for their professional opinions?”

The glare his uncle threw him could have frozen an active volcano. Other than that, he luckily didn’t give a comment and simply dragged Adrien away, Kagami hurriedly following.

“You’re playing dirty,” Marinette commented once they were out of earshot.

“Let that be your first lesson of the evening then. In these circles, you either play dirty or you don’t play at all.”

Judging by her scrunched up face, she certainly didn’t seem happy with that answer, though she at least didn’t say anything more.

“What do you think Adrien wanted to talk to us about?” She asked instead.

Félix shrugged. “I assume, in my case, it would be the mishap from last month and as for why you would be involved, I suspect it’s to question our sudden acquaintanceship. Either way, was Uncle wearing it?”

Marinette nodded. “A simple silver ring. I don’t know if it was a different ring, but it definitely looked like the ring you have.”

“Which means that he is wearing my aunt’s ring now,” Félix muttered and threw a dark look in the direction his uncle had disappeared into. 

Another look around confirmed that most people were wrapped up in conversations and not paying any attention to them.

“Alright, let’s do it another way then,” he said and took Marinette’s hand. Only to almost immediately let it go again as if he had burned himself. “My apologies, I…I should have asked.” he cleared his throat. “Just follow me.” 

Félix then proceeded to lead her through the crowd—internally praying that she wasn’t about to throw him off a roof for his blunder—always looking back every few metres to make sure she was following. After almost losing her multiple times though, she eventually took his hand of her own volition and let herself be led around the ballroom.

“Where are we going?” She hissed about halfway through.

“Out of the ballroom and into the closed off parts of the mansion. If he has my aunt’s ring, he’s bound to have more of her things, some of them that rightfully belong to my mother. I won’t take anything, don’t worry, but it never hurts to have photographic evidence and other clues.”

Marinette nodded. “Seeing how he really doesn’t want me at this party, it might be best if we make ourselves scarce.”

“Scarcer than _out of the room_ is hardly possible,” Félix agreed with a small smirk.

Of course _that_ was the moment when an atrocious purple dress pushed itself into their way and stopped. He felt Marinette’s grip on his hand tighten but didn’t say anything, just glaring to match the nasty smirk.

“Who invited _you_ here?” Lila asked, her eyes on Marinette and her tone mocking. “Did you have to _beg_ Félix to sneak you in just so you’d catch some fame that you otherwise wouldn’t ever get with those designs of yours? After all, how good can they be when you’re giving them away for _free_?”

Félix spared exactly _one_ glance to look her up and down, though took caution to make it as disparaging as possible. “You certainly are one to talk about _fashion_ , walking around in a dress like _that_ and not even changing your already atrocious hairstyle for the occasion. Everyone with only a smidge of design knowledge could tell you that warm skin tones don’t mix well with cold colours, making this a spectacular faux pas. It must be quite embarrassing to be in your shoes right now, a model of Gabriel in a dress that would have usually never even entered the ranks of consideration, isn’t it, Rossi?”

Lila was _seething_ , which, in hindsight, might not have been the best outcome. After all, Akumas were still at large and he certainly wouldn’t want an akumatised Lila Rossi charging after him. 

_Besides…_

He briefly glanced at Marinette.

_…she’ll definitely quarter me if I cause an Akuma again._

“At least _I’m_ not the one who claims herself to be a fashion designer and yet wears a funeral dress to a line launch party with the same boring earrings as always,” Lila quipped and he felt Marinette flinch while he himself took care not to do so at the word ‘funeral.’ Judging by Lila’s expectant expression, it had probably been on purpose.

_Witch._

Félix’s gaze automatically wandered to Marinette’s earlobes with the frankly simple-looking dark earrings, though he now knew them to be anything but. He tried his very best to not let anything show on his face when he was reminded once more of the dream two nights ago. He also tried not to think about how the girl in the glittery black dress beside him would most probably tie him up on the Eiffel tower with a magic yo-yo and leave him to rot if he overstepped the line even just one last time. Félix also very much _didn’t_ think about his realisation that he owed her _so many_ more favours than he had already given and that he _really_ needed to apologize…no, rather _beg for forgiveness_ for causing three Akumas at once and for almost kissing her without her consent. Taken, he had lost his wits pursuing revenge to ruin Adrien’s reputation—something else he still needed to apologise for—but that made it no less unacceptable. 

“T-they’re a family heirloom,” Marinette said, barely convincing. That wouldn’t do.

“I wasn’t aware that you happened to be a fashion expert. One more fake achievement to add to your long list, I suppose?” Félix said, hoping that provocation was a good enough distraction.

“Well, unlike any of _you_ , I am actually in a fashion designer’s closer circle,” Lila said with a smirk. “Gabriel’s _muse_ to be exact.”

It was an open secret that Félix didn’t have the highest opinion of his uncle, but even _he_ had to doubt Lila’s words for a few seconds, thinking that _surely_ his uncle wouldn’t sink _this_ low. But then Marinette started talking.

“Lila, I really don’t care what kind of deal you made with Gabriel. Do you really think that calling yourself his muse is going to work out in your favour at this party?” She said and crossed her arms.

“At least I have something newsworthy to tell them, unlike you,” she grinned.

“Newsworthy for a scandal maybe,” he said. “If you want to go that far, then by all means, go ahead.”

Marinette pinched him. “Félix!” She hissed. “That’s definitely going too far.”

“What? Afraid I’ll become famous, Marinette?” Lila asked with a smirk.

Félix looked at the liar for a moment, _really_ looked at her, and then came to a conclusion that was…honestly just _sad_.

“You truly believe that, don’t you?” He asked, not at all trying to hide his disbelief. “The insinuation that my uncle would choose a _fifteen-year-old_ and thus underage girl as his muse, moreover making her a model proving that he thinks you, somehow, to be aesthetically pleasing, does really escape you, doesn’t it?”

Lila seemed confused for a moment, but then her face flared up in rage. 

“Only someone vile like you would insinuate that!”

Félix scoffed. “Don’t delude yourself further, Rossi. Everyone with a _brain_ would insinuate some sort of _relationship_ between you and my uncle.” He shuddered at the mere thought and also Marinette’s face had twisted into a disgusted frown. “Now who is it really that is cozying up to the rich and mighty? Certainly not my companion here, who I invited myself and even had to _convince_ to come. On that note, have a nice rest of the evening, and destroy your and my uncle’s careers by letting that piece of news slip that you’re so very proud of, if you dare.”

His hand still in Marinette’s—why hadn’t he let go?—Félix chose this moment to make a second attempt at a tactical retreat. Lila was steaming with rage behind them, but fortunately made no further move to interfere in their path.

“Alright, time to do some networking,” he said and suddenly stopped close to a conversing pair of fashion designers.

Marinette only blinked at him confused. “I thought we–”

“Later. Rossi is watching us like a hawk right now and would no doubt snitch to Uncle if she sees us slip out of the room and not come back. Instead, we’re going to build some connections in the fashion world for you,” he said with a grin and made a wave towards the room full of important people.

Panic instantly widened her eyes. “I can’t– this is– _…I’mnotready!_ ”

“Relax, they’re just regular people. You can talk to Jagged Stone without any trouble too, can’t you?”

“That…that’s different!”

“Well, let’s test that theory,” he said and mercilessly dragged her forward to the closest pair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm with Félix when it comes to the macaron thing. They're so sweet it hurts my teeth, just like cupcakes.


	13. Haunted House Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad about screwing up really using the given prompts for this story, but I'm trying my best, I swear! ;A;

“Up until this point I hadn’t believed Lila to be truly stupid, yet even I can be proven wrong, I suppose,” Félix said as they walked through the hallway away from the party.

Marinette was still a little starstruck from the many conversations she had in the past hour—sometimes with some help from Félix but mostly _on her own!_ Even if nothing would become of their current venture and even if Lila had seen them leave and would spin a nasty rumour out of it, the evening had still been majorly successful for her. She had a purse full of business cards and heard many compliments for her dress. 

When Félix sent her a questioning look she quickly shook her head and hummed in agreement. “It’s like she believes the world to bend in her favour at every step.”

“To, unfortunately, quote Chloé: it’s ridiculous.”

She snorted, only for it to turn into a grim frown. “I don’t know _how_ she keeps getting away with it.”

“Me neither, which is incredibly frustrating. Be that as it may though, we have something else to take our minds off her absurdity now,” he said as they turned a corner into a hallway Marinette had never been in before.

To be fair, she hadn’t been in the Agreste mansion very often and the few times she had—mostly as Ladybug— _exploring_ the place had been at the bottom on her list of priorities.

“Are you sure we’re not gonna get caught? They have security cameras all over the place,” Marinette said and did her best to _not_ nervously glance into corners where they could be—the last thing she needed was for them to catch a good visual of her face.

“No worries, I’m part of the family, am I not?”

“Not comforting,” she deadpanned and actually made him _snort_. It was a sound she had only heard him make in dreams so far—when also quite sparingly—usually in response to something Claude had said, and found that it was a little perplexing to see it in real life.

“If we happen to get caught, I will simply say that you needed the bathroom and that I was showing you the way. We just happened to also venture around a bit afterwards. Speaking of.”

Félix opened a door and pretty much shoved her through it into a bathroom.

“First rule of magic tricks: make them believable.”

“So you’re an expert in magic now, huh?” She asked with a smirk as he went to close the door again. 

He stopped and suddenly reached forward as if to tuck a strand behind her ear. Marinette went ramrod straight, unsure what to do and tried her best not to blush. Why would she blush in the first place though? It was just Félix and…and…he had once assaulted her! When he drew his hand back from behind her ear with a smirk though, he held a two euro coin in his fingers.

“Always have been,” he said smugly.

She internally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why do I have the feeling that Claude taught you that?”

“Bold of you to assume that _I_ didn’t teach _him_ ,” he said, the smirk still in place, before eventually closing the door behind him.

Marinette let out a sigh to calm her nerves. Alright, it was time to review the facts:

She was on a heist-type of mission with Félix, probably trespassing in the Agreste mansion while Gabriel Agreste was majorly displeased about her presence and Lila was slinking around the premises as well. Furthermore, _Adrien_ —who she still hadn’t gotten over, freaking hell!—had said that he wanted to talk to her _in private_. That Félix was also involved in that conversation; and that he had already voiced a completely natural reason as to why Adrien would want to talk to them, her brain just ignored and stubbornly decided to gallop ahead.

A tapping from her purse luckily drew her out of _that_ particular train of thought. When she opened it, Tikki glanced up at her from within the nest of business cards.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” she whispered. “This whole house is…I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Creepy?” Marinette offered quietly.

Tikki nodded thoughtfully. “More like it’s haunted,” she said with a shudder. “There’s something not right and unnatural about this place, so please be careful.” She then glanced at the door. “Are you sure you can trust him? He could still throw you under the bus.”

Marinette bit her lip. Ever since she had told Tikki about the accident in her dream two nights ago, followed by a lot of disappointed sighing from the goddess, she had been extremely wary of Félix. Would he sell her out or wouldn’t he? It was hard to say at this point.

“If he tries to pull anything, he at least knows that I could throw him off a roof and catch him _just in time_ again,” Marinette muttered before closing the purse and opening the door.

“That was probably long enough to make it believable,” she said as she stepped back out into the hallway.

Félix was leaning against the wall next to the door and nodded.

“Were you calling a friend in there?”

She panicked for a second before nodding. Fortunately, he also didn’t ask further and just continued through the hallway.

“If Uncle wouldn’t have wanted people to go here, he should have probably turned the lights off,” Félix scoffed and rolled his eyes when they entered yet another private and brightly lit hallway.

“What a waste of energy,” Marinette muttered. “My _Maman_ already freaks out when I forget to turn my string of lights on the balcony off .”

The two of them wandered around in silence before Félix finally went to try a door, only to find it locked.

“Apparently he has _some_ sense after all.”

Marinette glanced down at her purse. Tikki could easily open these doors, but that certainly would look extremely suspicious on the security footage.

“You don’t happen to know how to pick locks?”

“I do–” Why wasn’t she surprised? “–but I fear that this won’t really play well into our story if we’re caught and the security footage is reviewed.”

She sighed. “True. Hey, how about his office? It’s near the entrance, so we wouldn’t need an excuse for being there.”

“The cameras would still catch any lockpicking, and Nathalie is there too.”

“Alright, let’s just keep trying the doors. Maybe one is open after all. You try this side, I’ll try that one,” she said and tapped her purse.

Tikki wouldn’t be caught on camera and if they timed it right, then she could unlock a door at the same time where Marinette would seemingly randomly try it out. That way it would look like the door hadn’t been locked in the first place. As soon as Félix’s back was turned, Marinette clicked her purse open and Tikki carefully floated out of sight and into the first door. Marinette waited a second and then pushed down the handle. It opened.

“This one works,” she called over her shoulder and looked into the dark room.

It was much bigger than she had anticipated, especially with it still being on the ground floor and there _surely_ was a limit to the number of big rooms on it, wasn’t there? As soon as she stepped in though, the lights flickered on and revealed to her… 

“Is…that his office? I thought the entrance was near the front door?”

“With as big a room as this is, I’m honestly not surprised that it has multiple doors leading to it,” Félix commented and just strolled in like he owned the place.

“I dunno about this, Félix. If we get caught _here_ then we’ll _really_ have trouble explaining that.”

“Seeing how I’m just going to apprehend minor things, it probably won’t even be noticed.”

“Apprehend? Félix! You said you wouldn’t steal anything!”

He turned around to her with an arched eyebrow. “Personal possessions? Ringing a bell?”

Marinette choked. “You want to _spy_ on him in his dreams?!” It was getting progressively harder to not shout, so instead she hissed her exclamations, her eyes nervously darting around.

“It’s the best way to find out where he’s hiding everything that rightfully belongs to my family and perhaps it’ll even show me a way to steal the ring.”

Marinette bit her lip and glanced down when Tikki flew back into her purse. Her kwami waved her on urgently.

“Don’t worry, I disabled the security cameras. Go on and search around, I have a strong feeling about this,” she whispered so quietly that Félix wouldn’t hear.

And…well…that was a little too vague and ominous for Marinette’s liking. She took a deep breath.

“The things I do for you, Tikki,” she mumbled under her breath and then stepped into the room.

While she had been in this room once before as Ladybug—goggling pictures of Adrien like a lovestruck idiot—it only now occurred to her that it was rather…empty. Every designer had an own sense of inspiration, sure, but with this emptiness and lack of colour, she personally wouldn’t be able to come up with _anything_ , let alone something catwalk-worthy. Marinette walked by the drawing tablet, giving it a short longing glance—she’d never be able to afford anything like that—before stopping in front of the painting of Adrien’s mother.

“My uncle really takes extravagance to a new level, doesn’t he?” Félix suddenly disdainfully said from behind her, making her jump.

“What?”

Félix nodded at the painting. “Would _you_ let a picture be drawn of your spouse in the likeness of a famous painting in _this_ size and hang it in your office?”

Marinette frowned. “It depends on if they’d be alright with that, but it’s not really my personal taste.”

Félix, meanwhile, got to work to look _behind_ the painting.

“I doubt that–”

Her words were cut off when the painting _actually_ swung to the side and revealed a safe.

“Alright, I think this is the sign for us to get the hell out of here,” Marinette said, now truly panicking. 

If Félix took _anything_ from that safe, she’d be dead meat as well.

“Relax, I’m just going to take a look. Evidence pictures, remember?”

She bit her lip and once again glanced at Tikki, who was in turn staring at the safe with a look of incredible concentration. It was a miracle that Félix hadn’t noticed her yet.

“Okay, so you can pick locks apparently. Does that include safes?” Marinette asked.

“No, but knowing how sentimental Uncle is when it comes to my aunt, the combination isn’t hard to guess,” Félix said and typed in eight numbers. 

The safe opened. Her eyes grew wide. 

“Her birthday. The same as my mother’s birthday, so not really hard for me to remember,” Félix said, a grin again stretching on his face.

Marinette barely registered that though as she _stared_ at the contents of the safe. Because, there, laying right next to the _grimoire_ was what looked suspiciously similar to the peacock Miraculous.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit! This isn’t happening!_

Félix must have noticed her sudden struggle to breathe because he fully turned around to her with a worried expression.

“What’s wrong?”

There was a strangled noise that had probably come from her as she shakily pointed at the brooch. A tapping at her side snapped her back to her senses. No time to panic, this was superhero business and she was the _guardian_! With newfound determination she took the brooch from the safe’s shelf and breathed an internal sigh of relief when alarms didn’t immediately start blaring.

“Alright, you take the grimoire and uh…try to hide it under your coat?”

Félix was giving her an incredulous look now.

“No, that wouldn’t work. Damn it. Uh…okay, I have a copy of it so it should be fine, right? For now?” Her voice was taking on a hysterical edge and she knew that it was only a matter of time before it would spiral into full blown panic. “Okay,” she said again, though it wasn’t the least bit calming. “Go ahead and take a pencil or something else personal that he won’t notice, close the goddamn safe and then let’s get the hell out of here!” 

While he still looked puzzled and probably quite worried for her mental state, she was glad that he still complied wordlessly and the two of them were out of the office in a matter of minutes. 

Marinette grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the bathroom from before—the only room where she knew wouldn’t be any cameras. Only once the door closed behind them did she dare to let her mask of determination drop and let out a hysterical laugh.

“Can you perhaps tell me what the meaning of all this is now? You seem distressed.”

“Oh really? I didn’t notice.”

Good, her sarcasm was still working, so she wasn’t full-on panicking yet. She then took a nevertheless shaky breath and pulled the peacock brooch out of her purse. Even in a dormant state she could feel its magic, which meant that it definitely was the real thing. 

“ _This_ _means_ that we’ve definitely found more than we bargained for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many reveals and still no explanations for any of them. Félix must have the patience of a saint at this point.


	14. Shakespeare

Félix wasn’t sure where Marinette’s sudden panic had come from, just that it seemed to be centred around the brooch she was holding up. She let out another hysterical laugh and ran a hand through her hair, frazzling the hairstyle a little.

“Oh god, how are we going to get out of here now? We stole it and he’ll know and I’ll spend the rest of my life in prison, but I can’t because I’m–” She cut off in what seemed sudden realisation and shook her head. 

Marinette then proceeded to walk up and down the length of the frankly not large bathroom and mutter garbled nonsense. In the meantime, he decided to sit down on the edge of the bathtub and waited for her to calm down. 

It took a few minutes, but eventually she managed to produce words again. These words, however, weren’t the least bit comforting.

“This is the Peacock Miraculous.”

Félix worked his jaw while thinking about what to say to that. They hadn’t even managed to talk about the _previous_ big revelation yet and now there was another. Eventually, he settled on a nod and a somewhat unsure “Okay?”

“No, _not_ okay!” Marinette basically _screeched_ in exasperation. “The Butterfly and the Peacock both got lost at the same time, together with the grimoire, that, if you remember, _also_ was in the safe. Do you know what that means?!”

Frankly, she couldn’t be more conspicuous about it if she tried.

“Well, at least that confirms our theory about Lila working for Hawkmoth: she quite literally does. Which means that Uncle is Hawkmoth. _Wonderful._ As if this family wasn’t dramatic enough already. ”

Marinette decided to wildly wave her arms around. “ _That’s_ your takeaway from that?!”

“Did you arrive at a different conclusion?”

She snorted in frustration. “No, but how are you so…so… _nonchalant_ about it?!”

Félix shrugged. “Knowing Uncle, this really doesn’t come as much of a surprise to me. It’s very fitting actually.”

“He was akumatised though, so this doesn’t make sense,” she said, biting her lip.

He pointed at the Peacock Miraculous. “Since he _obviously_ has an assistant—Nathalie, I assume—it certainly wouldn’t have been _impossible_ to just give his Miraculous to her temporarily.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up with a strange mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to identify before she eventually settled on determination once more.

“Anyway, we need to go,” she stated, her panic now well-hidden once more. It eerily made her look like her alter-ego, especially since he now knew what to look for. 

“Agreed. There’s another entrance by the kitchen. Mum already knows that we’re probably leaving inconspicuously so she won’t wonder about it.”

“What the heck does your mum think we’re doing?!”

Félix smirked. “Robbing the place.”

“Oh god, we _did_ rob the place!” Marinette said, panic and horror back on her face.

“Welcome to a life of crime, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” he said with a smirk and opened the bathroom door.

She glared at him. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Says the one who was the first to take something.”

That earned him a _light_ shove that almost made him topple over. “Just get us out of here. Now.”

And, well, since Félix very much preferred to _not_ schedule in ‘being thrown off a roof by Ladybug’ any time soon, he did his best to comply.

_Click._

“Just stay calm.”

_Click._

“Things are going according to plan.”

_Click._

“It’s not like she’s going to _murder_ me.”

Félix paused when the fourth lock clicked open and took a deep breath. This little pep-talk had meant to be reassuring and grounding, but he found that with all the new revelations combined, the seriousness of the situation had risen to new levels. Never in a million years would he have thought to find himself right in the middle of a national crisis that involved one of the biggest terrorists in human history—that the deaths could be reversed didn’t change the fact that these people died in the first place. To find out that his _uncle_ was that very terrorist had just been the cherry on top of everything else at this point. What was next? Adrien was Chat Noir?

He shook his head, refusing to even _entertain_ that thought. His family was a chaotic cluster of insanity already and he certainly didn’t need _more_ of it.

Bracing himself for a stressful night, Félix opened his door and stepped out into the corridor. It stretched before him in boundless lengths and silence with its dim light, creating an eeriness of the kind he was only familiar with in dreams. Quiet was a good start, at least, since the last thing he needed now was for Claude to track along. That particular thought also made him breathe a sigh of relief he hadn’t realised he had been holding, before turning around to lock his door once more.

The silence of the corridor also meant that Marinette wasn’t there yet, which complicated his plans just a little. While it only took a few steps to reach her door—it had shifted closer to his over the last few nights—he still stood in front of it for a moment in the hopes that he was lucky and she’d come out on her own. When that didn’t happen, he reached out to knock, only for a silver pole to block his path.

“No one passes this threshold!” Chat Noir hissed and jumped down from his perch.

Félix scowled at the hero. He might be a dream version of the real thing, but that still didn’t mean that he had to like him. After all, he had anything but forgotten Chat Noir’s comment about having no friends. He could have forgiven the words, seeing how it had been an exceptional situation and the hero’s conclusion hadn’t been too far-fetched based on his atrocious behaviour, were it not for the taunting tone they had been spoken in, almost bordering on entitled. As if he had something Félix didn’t have and had been looking down on him for it. And if Félix despised one thing with a fiery passion, it was to be belittled.

The logical reaction would have been to just clarify to the dream ward that he merely wanted to knock on the door and then wait, but he still had some spite from a month ago left in him so he quickly knocked on Marinette’s door before Chat Noir could intervene. Predictably, the hero wasn’t amused by that and promptly started attacking Félix. Well, good thing he kept up his martial arts skills and that those transferred more than wonderfully into dreams as well.

To his annoyance, the fight seemed to have drawn the attention of _the cat_ that was just a couple of doors away and it trotted over. It was especially annoying when it could just sit down next to Marinette’s door without any retribution from her door wards and watch while Félix tried to dodge the stupid baton again and again.

_Definitely not a door ward,_ Félix thought to himself while dodging another blow and feeling the cat’s eyes on him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” The shout brought both fighters to a halt and made Chat Noir turn around to fall into a bow.

Marinette closed her door behind her while acknowledging her guard with a nod and a smile, before settling for an unimpressed stare with an arched eyebrow for Félix.

“I knocked and he seemed to have a problem with it,” he replied with a shrug.

“He didn’t ask for permission,” Chat Noir reported with a hiss in his direction.

“Alright, well done, Chat. Keep up the good work,” she said, making the hero beam before he jumped back to his perch above the door. “Do you have it on?” 

Félix nodded. Taking the tablet glove had been a good idea as it wouldn’t slip off while he slept. 

“How did you manage to secure the pencil?”

“In a bun. Let’s hope I won’t stab myself with it and wake up,” she said. “Any idea how we’ll find his door?”

“It’ll be somewhere around here as we’re people in his general circle.”

“There’s probably a butterfly somewhere on it,” Marinette said and then started walking, going past the doors they already knew to belong to others.

“Maybe it’ll even be in a side-arm,” he said and glared at the cat when he noticed it following them.

“Ugh, great. We’ll probably have to search it for half the night and then get lost in the corridors. As if tomorrow won’t be horrible enough already, we’ll also face it with a lack of sleep.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Félix asked while inspecting a dark wooden door.

“School. You know, Lila? Rumours?”

He groaned. “I actually forgot about it for the time being. That’ll definitely be a pain to deal with.”

When the two of them—or three, if he counted the cat—stopped at the first crossway, he looked in both directions contemplatively. Each of them was equally likely to produce results, as well as going further forwards could.

“How about we look at the first twenty doors on the right each and if we won’t have any luck there we turn around and try it with the other corridor to the left? You said it’d have to be somewhere nearby so it wouldn’t make sense to go too far,” Marinette suggested.

Félix shrugged. “We’ll have to start somewhere, I suppose.” 

After thirty doors each and what felt like twice as many minutes later, they were halfway through the left corridor—the search in the right one had proved to be futile. Félix was about ready to kick one of the doors down out of sheer frustration when Marinette gasped behind him.

Just as he turned around she also let out a disbelieving and exasperated “ _Really?!_ ” with the reason for it becoming quite clear immediately. She stood in front of a door with a massive butterfly on it, its form identical to the logo of his uncle’s fashion brand.

“Either someone is an incredibly obsessive fan of my uncle’s brand, or we definitely found his door,” Félix commented.

“Alright, great. Let’s do this before we lose even more sleep over it. Literally.”

“Is there a reason why we couldn’t have done this on _any_ other night?”

Marinette turned around to him with a steely expression. “It’s been almost two years and too many losses. I want this to _end_ , okay?! Tomorrow will be even worse if I procrastinate this now. I just need some certainty for once!”

Félix sighed. “Alright, let me take the lead then. Some peoples’ dreams can be…disturbing, and unlike you I’m already in therapy.”

He saw Marinette shudder as an unpleasant thought of what ‘disturbing’ meant, no doubt, went through her head.

“Yeah, not gonna argue there,” she said and stepped aside.

“Alright, dream spying one-oh-one: take the form that’ll give you the most information,” Félix said while changing his appearance to look like Claude.

“And looking like Claude will accomplish that _how_ exactly?” 

“Uncle doesn’t know him, so he’ll overlook him. Once we’re in the dream, we’ll have to adapt to the setting again, but for the moment, some unknowns should suffice.”

Marinette nodded and changed to look like a girl Félix briefly recalled seeing in the school hallways, probably someone from one of the parallel classes.

He then took a deep breath, put his hand on the door handle and opened it. There luckily was no ward or any other obstruction present, though the prospect of what the dream itself could be, certainly frightened Félix much more than any ward ever could. When he was greeted by a flurry of camera flashes rather than something that would scar him for life, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“Wait here, kitty,” Marinette told the cat—it meowed—and then stepped forward. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go,” Félix said and the two of them stepped into the dream, bringing them right in the middle of a red carpet event.

“Do you happen to know a reporter?” He asked her while simultaneously changing into a journalist he knew from London.

Marinette nodded and changed into a middle-aged woman with red-purplish hair. “Done. What now?” She asked.

“Now we ask him questions. People are more honest in their dreams, so it’s easier to manipulate answers out of them than when they’re awake. They’re still their regular selves though and Uncle is tight-lipped about most things, so we’ll need to ease him into the topic somehow to get anything out of him. Try to ask him something about fashion first and then create a transition to the Miraculous.”

Marinette clutched the microphone tighter—she had dreamed it up with her ensemble—took a deep breath, and then proceeded to effectively fight her way to the first row of journalists by the red carpet.

“Monsieur Agreste, what was the inspiration for your newest line?” She asked while Félix willed the other journalists to be quieter so that her question would be the one that got picked up.

His uncle’s answer was some very specific talk about colours, fashion history and cuts, predictably boring so Félix didn’t pay it much mind.

“Most of your competitors have based lines on the superheroes of Paris. Do you plan to do the same?”

Félix had to give it to her, she was smart. His transitional question of choice would have probably been to ask about his uncle’s opinion on Akuma costumes, which might have actually infuriated him.

“No, I don’t. If I would do everything like my competitors, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” Gabriel said with a huff.

Félix jumped in there. “Is there another reason why? What’s your opinion on Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“They are just children who play at being heroes. Sooner or later they’ll fail with their naivety.”

“When do you think you’ll get their Miraculouses then?”

Marinette sent him a warning glance, but she needn’t have worried. Most people might not know it, but vanity and the urge to boast was another common family trait of the Agrestes and Graham de Vanilys.

“Very soon. With their guardian down and their temporary heroes exposed, they’re weaker than ever. It’s only a question of time until they fold.”

Despite that extremely unsettling answer, Marinette didn’t even flinch. Instead, she had a similar glint of determination in her eyes than she had had earlier at the mansion.

“What do you want the Miraculouses for?” She asked.

“To change a mistake in the past and bring Emilie back.”

Félix decided that this was more than enough proof that his uncle wasn’t just Hawkmoth, but also completely _insane_.

“Time to go,” he muttered in Marinette’s ear, and then lightly dragged her away from the red carpet, the gap immediately filling itself again with the other reporters.

The door closed behind them with a definite _bang_ and Marinette let out a slightly hysterical noise while changing back into herself again. Félix, meanwhile, noticed that the cat was gone.

It was quite impressive how Félix had managed to get to the last act of _Macbeth_ with everything else going on at the same time. Reading Shakespeare was a calming and welcome diversion and he was almost sad to soon be done with this particular work. Well, he could always read ahead on _Les Miserables_ or pick up something else, he supposed. 

His quiet reading before class was rudely interrupted by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng who sat down next to him, let her head sink on the desk and groaned. When she lifted her head again, she glared at him.

“How can you read Shakespeare _now,_ of all times?!”

Félix shrugged. “It’s a good distraction.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hope I’ll never have to read it in English class at the end of lycée. I don’t even get the French translation. Anyway, about yesterday–”

“Hold that thought,” he said, raising one hand slightly to stop her from talking further. “It’s inadvisable to talk about any of those things _here and now_. Until an opportune time arrives, you need not worry: I’m very much aware that you’ll quarter me and worse if I’ll let _any_ secrets slip.”

Marinette stared at him with terrifying seriousness. “ _Exactly._ ”

“Besides,” Félix continued and did his best _not_ to glance at Lila while at the same time subtly nodding in her direction. “We have another problem now.”

Marinette had exactly two seconds to realise that she had made a terrible mistake by directly approaching him—sitting down next to him no less—before Lila already started her tirade.

“I knew it! Marinette, how could you!” She screeched with a gasp so fake Félix had to try hard not to roll his eyes.

His new seatmate, on the other hand, adapted a look of tired exasperation. “Here we go,” she muttered.


	15. Battle of Wits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, if this chapter taught me one thing then it is that I absolutely _suck_ at writing any kind of Battle of Wits and that I shouldn't waste an entire week despairing about it next time. Please don't expect some absolutely genius work from this chapter, but I did my best! ;w;

Marinette knew that a retort along the lines of ‘How could I do _what_?’ would just spur on the already burning fire, so she decided to stare Lila down for now and expect the worst. Meanwhile, the conspiratorial muttering of the class and their glances her way was fairly little comfort. Even _Alya_ was looking at her with a sour expression, which _really_ stung but she couldn’t show her hurt—it would only serve in making Lila unbearably smug.

“We were having a discussion about Shakespeare and the likelihood of it ever being picked up in class. What are _you_ insinuating?” Félix said in a carefully bored voice and a look that told everyone just how much he was already over this nonsense.

“Don’t play dumb! You two are dating, aren’t you?” Alya accused them, surprisingly hostile.

Marinette was honestly taken aback and blinked at her friend in obvious confusion. Then she remembered that Alya had been in the restaurant on Friday as well when she and Félix had met for the blind date prank—so much had happened since then.

“We’re not dating,” she said, putting emphasis on her honest bafflement.

“But we saw you at the restaurant on Friday,” Mylène said, Ivan nodding beside her.

“The result of a very tasteless and ill-constructed prank that we decided to make the best out of. We have the letters to prove it in case you want to check your sources,” Félix said.

“So you admit to writing each other love letters!” Alya said and pointed at them.

“So _that’s_ why you two snuck off at the party yesterday!” Lila exclaimed before either of them could even try to correct Alya.

Needless to say, pandemonium broke loose upon that revelation.

Marinette tried very hard not to bite her lip or otherwise look insecure or troubled while she furiously thought about how to best present the ‘Félix showed me the bathroom and then we wandered around’ excuse without leaving Lila or the others room to insinuate something. A quick glance at Félix told her that he seemed to be thinking the same.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette got her maths book out of her bag, stood up and then let it slam down noisily on the desk. Not few students jumped at the sudden noise and it had the intended effect: silence.

“Do you want an explanation from us or do you rather want to make up your own stories about what _actually_ happened?”

Lila narrowed her eyes at her but she ignored it. Just like Lila had before, Marinette also didn’t give anyone in the class the option to answer her question and immediately continued.

“Yes, we did leave during the party, but not because of anything scandalous. I just needed the bathroom and since I was at the party as _Félix’s_ plus one, I was worried I’d get caught up in the family feud when Nathalie or even Monsieur Agreste caught me alone on the way.” She shrugged. “I just asked Félix to show me where the bathroom was and to accompany me to prevent drama.”

“But you didn’t come back!” Lila threw in and, after making sure that no one was looking at her, threw them a nasty smirk.

“I had offered to show her my aunt’s statue in the garden, though I knew that Nathalie wouldn’t let us back in through the front entrance if we left, so we wandered around looking for another exit and that took longer than expected. We just so happened to meet Marinette’s curfew just when we were about to go back in, so we called it a night then,” Félix lied smoothly.

“Sounds like a likely excuse,” Alix scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Lila says she saw you put a love letter into his locker, girl! Don’t try to weasel your way out of this!” Alya said and Marinette’s eyebrows rose even higher.

What in the world had gotten into Alya?! Even when she had been expelled, Alya had still been on her side, even though she hadn’t believed the culprit to be Lila. She knew her better than this, so why was she arguing against her? Her gut told her that something was very wrong here. She just wished to know _what_ it was so she could fix it. After all, repairing things was what she did best, so to fail at it again and again was immensely disheartening.

“You know, I didn’t want to say anything,” Lila said in her fake-shy voice, “but the two of you have gotten very close in a very short time, even though you hated him just a week ago, Marinette. Just in time for the line launch party too.”

Marinette glared at the liar while several classmates glared at her. Was she seriously accusing her of being a _golddigger?!_ Before she could explode, however, and probably say lots of things she’d regret later, Félix cut in.

“I might be a jerk at times, Rossi, but from what I heard, Marinette didn’t have the best of starts with my cousin either and decided to give him a chance. Through some circumstances she has decided to give me a chance as well, which is frankly more than I deserve. However, this _romance_ you keep insinuating isn’t anything but a fantasy of yours.”

“Maybe she’s lying to you to get closer to–”

“Do you really want to finish that sentence?” 

Even though Félix wasn’t related to Gabriel Agreste, she suddenly could see an eerie similarly in the cold tone and icy gaze. It, in fact, made Lila hesitate for just a second.

“I’m just saying,” she said and raised her hands in a placating manner. “Some people go quite far to get into the fashion industry.”

“Oh, like _you_? What did you claim to be again yesterday? Ah, right, Uncle’s _muse_. Even if your disgusting claims are correct, then Marinette at least didn’t cozy up to a man in his forties to get into the industry at all _._ ”

Predictably, the class _exploded._

“You don’t have proof!” Alya practically screeched.

Marinette looked at her sourly. “You don’t have any proof for this nonsense either! Come on, Alya, what the hell?! You’re a _journalist!_ ”

Maybe she should have reigned herself in more, but heck, she was _exhausted_ from only half a night’s sleep and… _everything_.

“We saw you at the restaurant and you looked suspiciously close!” Alya threw back.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how one took it—Adrien chose this exact moment to arrive at the classroom. Marinette’s eyes immediately locked on him. Less because of her still lingering crush and more because he looked even tireder than she felt—and _that_ meant something! 

“What’s going on here?” He asked, and while he obviously tried to keep his voice down and only meant to ask Nino, the entire class talked over each other to fill him in.

Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed further and further the more he heard until he eventually sent Marinette a questioning glance. She, in return, rolled her eyes and threw a short glance at Lila, who clung close to his arm—judging by his sudden grimace she dug in her nails a little too much.

“Félix, what did you do this time?” Adrien eventually asked, sending his cousin a wary glance.

Félix, in turn, scoffed. “If you’re implying a malicious action, then _absolutely nothing_. Maybe try to open your eyes for once, Cousin, instead of letting yourself be pushed around and manhandled like a shiny piece of arm candy by someone who isn’t even your girlfriend.” His voice, at the last part, was biting and his glare at Lila more than obvious. “Miss Rossi, you _are_ aware that non-consensual touching of this manner counts as sexual harassment, right?”

The class started to yell over each other again and Marinette couldn’t pick up what was being said, just a general outrage of appalment. With everyone tearing into Félix once again though, they didn’t notice the sudden glint of realisation in Adrien’s eyes. She, who was still watching him closely, _did_ notice, but was no _less_ surprised when he suddenly and forcefully pried Lila off his arm.

“Félix is right,” he said, his voice untypically serious. It had a similar effect like her dropping her maths book had earlier.

While most everyone else was gaping at Adrien, Marinette threw him a smile.

“Congratulations on growing a spine, I suppose,” Félix said. “Might be the first time you’ve ever listened to me.” 

She saw that he, too, couldn’t help but smile a little.

Before Lila could think of another lie or even shed some crocodile tears, the teacher walked into the classroom and everyone hurried to their seats. Marinette breathed a tired sigh of relief and sat back down. Now that she was already up here and with Alya probably still mad at her, she could just stay where she was. Besides, contrary to a week ago, Félix now wasn’t the _worst_ seatmate she could imagine.

Speaking of the devil, he nudged her foot and subtly tapped his pen on the notebook. What she had originally thought had been him writing today’s date in the corner, actually turned out to be a short message.

> ` _We need to get a personal item of hers today. The more dirt we have on her the easier it’ll be._ `

Marinette gave him a look of grim determination, similar to the one the previous night before they had gone into Gabriel Agreste’s dream, and nodded.


	16. Pretentious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> communication is key!

Unlike the night before, Félix found Marinette already in the corridor when he stepped out of his door. She was sitting in front of hers and petting the black cat that had curled up in her lap. He frowned.

“Are you aware that this cat could just as well be a person that made themselves look like a cat?” 

In hindsight, that might not have been the best greeting, especially as he now noticed a haunted look in her eyes. She hadn’t just been sitting around to idly kill time, but rather for another reason.

Marinette shrugged. “And you could just as well be someone else pretending to be Félix.” She threw her head back against her door and groaned, eyes on the string of lights above her. “Dreams are complicated. Besides, the cat keeps sitting in front of the door with the stickers, so it must be a ward of some kind.”

Félix threw the cat a suspicious, thin-lipped look before deciding to drop the subject. For now.

“Why are you out here this early?”

“Just had a nightmare that I was happy to get out of,” Marinette said quietly and hugged the cat close.

“My condolences about your nightmare. But again, it’s inadvisable to be so close to that cat as long as you don’t know if it’s a person.”

He couldn’t seem to let it go after all. Somehow, it irked him that she was squeezing the cat, even if this was just a dream.

Marinette shrugged again. “It looks like a cat and cuddling a _black_ cat is exactly what I need right now. If it would have been a _white_ cat on the other hand…”

She trailed off and after a few seconds of silence Félix realised that she wouldn’t finish that thought out loud. He didn’t really know what to make of the half-baked sentence though. What was wrong with white cats?

The sound of a door falling shut made him whirl around but he couldn’t see anything—that didn’t bode well. Apparently feeling a similar unease, the cat immediately jumped off Marinette’s lap to hiss at the darkness that now made a faint noise akin to a curtain being drawn shut.

Marinette had stood up as well, the anxiety from before covered up with seriousness. 

“We have to get out of the corridor,” she said and immediately turned around. 

Félix saw her hesitate and slightly flinch back when she was about to touch her door handle. The uncertain look in her eyes said it all already.

Before he could think too much about it, he took Marinette’s hand and dragged her over to his door that fortunately was only a few steps away. The foreboding sounds shifted ever-closer, no matter how hurriedly he fumbled with his keys. While a good method to keep others out, they proved terribly inefficient in an emergency such as this when he himself needed to quickly get back through the door.

He was about to work on the last lock when he almost dropped his keys altogether at the sound of a roar next to them. The cat from before had taken on the form of a panther and stood between them and the shifting darkness. Félix shook his head—deciding to contemplate that specific occurrence later—and unlocked his door at last, pushing Marinette through first, before rushing in himself and pulling it close with a definite bang behind them.

Shuddering sighs of relief left both of them while Félix locked the door once more.

“That was close,” he said.

“Wait, I don’t have any of your personal belongings. How come I can go in here at all?” Marinette asked.

“I invited you in, that works too,” Félix said just as the last lock gave a satisfying _click_ and then turned around.

As something of a default, he had dreamt up his father’s study, which was basically a miniature library. Throughout all of his life, it had been a comforting place for him, so no wonder his subconscious had picked this setting in these stressful times. Looking around, he found himself missing the artfully carved wood, the large window niche with the expensive throw pillows and even the ugly dog figurine dearly. It was a place so unlike their modern apartment in Paris, something that spoke of old wealth and mysteries, that he couldn’t help but feel a little homesick.

“Ah,” Marinette said as she looked around the room and nodded. “I should have figured you’d imagine something pretentious like this.”

Félix scowled at her. “This is my father’s study.”

She immediately looked stricken. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He just shook his head and motioned for her to sit down in a corner of the generously large window niche while he picked the side opposite hers. For a few moments he just watched how she sat down with her legs drawn to her chest and a curious look outside. When he followed her gaze, he noticed that the other side of the window showed the park next to his house in rainy autumn weather. He lost himself in the sight briefly before realising that neither of them would go out into the corridor again that night and if they were stuck together already, then they probably should finally talk about what they had procrastinated for way too long now.

“So, Ladybug, huh?”

He sarcastically applauded himself internally for this copious opening.

Marinette crossed her arms and just stared at him defiantly, as if to make him doubt his conclusion.

“If you’re basing that on my dream from the other night, then that’s quite feeble proof, isn’t it?”

Oh, she wanted proof? Fine.

“You hired _Chat Noir_ of all people as your door guard which indicates a measure of trust in his abilities while most other Parisian citizens would have probably chosen Ladybug,” he said, counting the point off at his fingers before continuing. “You woke up from a dream in the very night where there was an Akuma attack. You subconsciously dreamt of a rooftop in such detail that you must have been there before, as well as having Chat Noir call you what he usually only calls Ladybug. You even appeared as Ladybug before you threw me out of that particular dream in a _panic_. Most especially, though, you knew immediately that Uncle’s brooch was the Peacock Miraculous even though sightings of Mayura are few and there aren’t any close-ups of her Miraculous available anywhere. Need I go on?”

Marinette looked like she was desperately searching for some kind of excuse or explanation before eventually sighing in resignation and rubbing her temples.

“You can’t tell _anyone!_ ” She said in a similar terrifying seriousness as that morning.

“I thought we already established that I wouldn’t. But if it soothes your worries, then I _swear_ to not tell anyone that you’re Ladybug or anything related to it. After all, I am quite fond of my intact body and would like for it to stay that way.”

She glared at him.

He held up his hands in a placating manner. “Relax, despite my terrible reputation as a _tricky bastard_ , like you so fittingly put it, I’m only using my skills when I have a reason to. Speaking of, though,” he said and immediately cringed at the thought in his head. “I realised that I owe you another sincere apology now.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “Yes,” she said coldly. “And for the record: you very much deserved to be punched in the face.”

Félix winced and for a moment entertained the idea of fleeing his own dream, rather facing whatever was outside in the corridor than having this conversation. As uncomfortable as this no doubt was going to be, therapy had taught him to accept his grievances, which meant that he really needed to get this off his chest to move on.

“That, I did,” he said at last. “I was a despicable asshole, even worse than Lila Rossi, and there is absolutely no excuse or sane justification for it. All I can say at this point is that I am immensely sorry for what has occurred at the triple Akuma fight and I’ll try my best to atone for what I did.”

“You better be sorry,” she muttered and looked out the window, her eyes far away in thought.

“There is one thing that still puzzles me though,” he said after a while, earning Marinette’s undivided attention again.

“Just one?”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “While I had no idea until recently who you were, you knew from the start who I was and what I have done. So, why did you decide on this odd _alliance_ between us in the first place when you despised me so much?”

She shrugged. “Apart from the dream thing, it was the typical ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ kind of deal. You were one of the only ones who saw through Lila’s bullshit and you were also doing something about it.”

“In contrast to my cousin who left you to fend for yourself, you mean?”

Marinette pulled her knees up to her chin again and wrapped her arms around them. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” she said in a small voice. Then she sighed. “I admit I was a little too desperate for _any_ form of friendship, acquaintanceship or just something else than hostility at that point. What I mean to say is that everyone screws up from time to time because emotions get in the way. You screwed up _big time_ but you’re willing to make amends and better yourself and I can’t just ignore that either.”

Félix tried his best not to nervously fidget—it was harder to keep his emotions hidden in a dream. 

“So, where does that leave us? Where do we stand?”

Marinette stayed thoughtfully silent for a while, looking out the window again. Eventually she turned her gaze back to him, her eyes cautious but friendly.

“You helped me with the whole dream thing and you even continue to help with the Hawkmoth and Lila situations. The Félix from a month ago would have never done that, or at least not with the same repentance that you’re displaying. Your friends were right. You really aren’t as bad as I first thought anymore,” she said and a hesitant smile grew on her face. “I consider us friends if you want to be.”

This time Félix didn’t even try to hide his smile. “I would be honoured to be called your friend. And just so you know, I consider you a friend as well.”

And damn, if the smile she threw him for _that_ wasn’t blinding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> redeeming canon Félix is extremely difficult but I'm trying my best ;w;


	17. Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when did this become a group chat fic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter there are some group chat names that might need explanations:
> 
>   * **O horror, horror, horror!** | Claude | a line from Macduff from _Macbeth_ since Claude is playing him in the play he's currently practicing for. Plus a little Halloween-themed reference since the fic takes place in October
>   * **The Resident Brat** | Félix | Claude gave Félix that nickname after the thing in Paris
>   * **pay the piper** | Allegra | because she plays the German flute
> 


Marinette startled awake so badly that she woke up Tikki as well. Breathing hard, she clutched her blanket for a moment before glaring at it and reaching for her phone.

> `**Marinette:** WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!`

Since neither of them had planned to go back out into the corridor that night but also hadn’t been keen on losing a whole night of rest for practically nothing, she had tried her best to wake up to get back into her own dream afterwards. If Marinette was one thing though, then it was a heavy sleeper, so no matter how much she tried, she hadn’t managed to do it. Félix, on the other hand, _did_ have the skill of waking up on command. 

_“Why didn’t you say so earlier?! I’ve been trying this for like half an hour or something! You waking up will make me wake up too, won’t it?”_

_Félix averted his gaze nervously. “Yes, in theory it does, but it won’t be very pleasant.”_

_“I don’t care, just wake up!”_

Marinette had regretted those words shortly after when everything had suddenly gone black and it had felt like she was falling into an endless void. That _definitely_ had done the trick!

> `**Félix:** I told you it would be unpleasant. Good night.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** WARN ME NEXT TIME!`
> 
> `**Félix:** I _did_ warn you. Now it would be best to go back to sleep.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** fine`
> 
> `see you tomorrow`
> 
> `good night`

Tikki sleepily blinked at her. 

“Was that Félix?”

Marinette nodded. “He woke me up. By the way Tikki, is there some sort of monster in these corridors? Earlier we ran away from…something.”

The kwami shook her head. “Only other dreamers and their dream creations. Someone might have created a monster or even made themselves into a monster.”

“How comforting,” Marinette muttered. “So far I’ve only seen Claude in the corridors though and I don’t think he would have done that.”

“There can be other dreamers as well, and when they’re in your corridor there’s a good chance that you know them or that they’re the acquaintance of an acquaintance.”

Marinette thought about the cat and Félix’s comment that it might actually be a person, which would make it another dreamer. But it had _stood against_ the monster or whatever that razzling darkness had been. Wouldn’t that mean that there were at least _two_ dreamers she didn’t know about?!

“Okay, that’s it! I’m barricading my door! How about I put the whole Miraculous team as my door wards?”

“How about a password?” Tikki suggested instead. “Pick something very obscure no one would think about like,” the kwami looked around, “like ‘oud wood scented tea light.’” She eventually said, looking at the small package of tea lights Marinette had bought a few weeks ago.

“Good idea Tikki. But I think I’ll still hire the entire team to protect my door on top of that. The more protection the better. It’s already bad enough that Félix found out my identity and that was when I was _aware_ of the dream. Imagine what would happen if someone came into my dream while I’m not aware that I’m dreaming?! That would be very embarrassing…and dangerous.”

Tikki nodded. “I’m glad you’re taking preventative measures and learned from last time.” 

“Oh definitely,” Marinette said. “Anyway, let’s both get a few more hours of sleep. It’s almost four in the morning and I definitely need more rest in case there are Akumas.”

Her kwami threw her a tired deadpan stare. “That’s what I’ve been telling you for the past five days.”

Marinette smiled sheepishly. “I know. Good night, Tikki. Sorry for waking you up in the first place.”

“It’s no trouble, I can nap in your purse over the day,” she replied with a cheeky grin and floated up to kiss her forehead. “Good night, Marinette.”

The next morning Marinette didn’t feel as rested as she would have liked to, but still much better than she otherwise would have. As it was, she hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since last Thursday when she had stayed out of the corridor. Technically that applied for Saturday night as well, but she had been way too wrapped up in catastrophising to find any rest that night—apart from the dreams, there were still other, _regular_ reasons for a lack of sleep after all.

“Good morning, Marinette.”

Marinette was halfway up the stairs in front of the school when she whirled around with a squeak and almost fell.

“G-good morning, Adrien,” she said. 

It was somewhat of a knee-jerk reaction at this point to panic in his presence, before she managed to reign herself in once more. While her stuttering had gotten much better these past few months, her nervousness never fully left. Probably because getting over Adrien as of recently brought with it another kind of pressure, which was to suppress any romantic feelings she still had towards him and turn her affections down to simple friendship. It wasn’t easy but she was proud of herself for managing it…somehow decently.

“Are you alright?”

Marinette blinked at the question and tilted her head. There was honest worry in his eyes but also, like the day before, a deep exhaustion.

“Yes, I’m fine. What about you though? No offense, but if you put on even more layers of makeup, people will start to notice.”

She was about to berate herself for that off-hand comment and apologize, but Adrien only smiled sheepishly. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a lot to do lately with photoshoots for the winter collection and my other extracurriculars. The little bit of sleep I can squeeze in is barely enough.”

“Your father just _launched_ the winter collection!”

He cringed and shrugged. Then he looked around nervously, as if to make sure no one else was listening in.

“By the way, what is up with you and Félix? You aren’t _really_ a couple now, are you?”

Marinette actually laughed. “God, no!”

“Then how come you’re on good terms? He isn’t…uh, the most friendly person after all.”

She sobered up once more and gave something of an uncertain half-shrug. “He’s trying his best to do better now and I respect that. Besides,” it was her turn to look around for evesdroppers, “it’s somewhat a relief to have someone else know about Lila.”

Adrien flinched as if she had slapped him. “Listen, Marinette, I’m trying to do something about her but it’s…difficult. The whole situation is much more complicated than you think.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Care to share then?”

He looked around again and then frowned a little when he saw Nino turn the corner.

“Another time. Just…uh…try to stay out of the line of fire?”

“Seeing how Lila is driving a vendetta against her, that’ll be difficult.”

Marinette almost jumped into Adrien’s arms, but both of them managed to catch themselves before tumbling down the stairs.

“What the heck is your problem, Félix?! Don’t just appear out of nowhere like some ghost!”

Félix raised his eyebrows. “I merely saw you standing on the steps and went down. It’s not my fault you had your back turned and weren’t paying attention. In any case, _good morning_.”

“Morning,” she grumbled.

“Hey Félix,” Adrien said, somewhat warily—after the whole thing from a month ago she really didn’t blame him.

Félix nodded at him before turning back to Marinette and silently motioned her to follow. Only when they were up the stairs in the courtyard and when Adrien had started a conversation with Nino back on the steps, did he speak again.

“Claude has been blowing up my phone since Saturday by the way. Apparently you promised that I’d give him your number but after the whole fiasco this weekend I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to be subjected to that.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Give the poor guy my number already. Besides, he wants to commission me and it’s very unprofessional that I couldn’t get back to him yet.”

A rare amused smile grew on Félix’s face when he took out his phone. 

“I’ll add you to a group chat so that you have an alibi in case someone asks how you know my friends. After all, we told Adrien and Kagami that you knew them from one.”

Marinette nodded. “Good idea.”

“You might want to revisit that assessment in a few hours after Claude has spammed _you_ for a change.”

> `**Marinette:** hi`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** THE QUEEN HATH ARRIVED!!!`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** Brace yourself.`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** WHAT AN HONOUR IT IS TO FINALLY HAVE YOU AMONG OUR RANKS YOUR MAJESTY!!!!! 👑🙇💎`
> 
> `**Marinette:** thanks Claude c:`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** hey sweetie how are you? 😊`
> 
> `**Allen:** hi Marinette 👋`
> 
> `welcome to the madness`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** WE ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY! BOW DOWN YOU HEATHENS!!!`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** Claude, having her number is no reason to harass her with caps lock.`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** THIS ISN’T HARASSMENT! IT’S EXCITEMENT!!!`
> 
> `THERE! NOW HER NAME IS APPROPRIATE!`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** lol you didn’t have to but thanks`
> 
> `I’m good Allegra but class is about to start so ttyl 👋`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** FARE THEE WELL!!!!! 🙇`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** bye! ♥️`
> 
> `**Allen:** see you later :)`

As it turned out, it was quite difficult to completely stay out of the group chat, especially since her phone kept buzzing and Marinette honestly was curious to get to know Félix’s friends more. During the more boring classes she kept taking the phone out of her pocket to check it and sometimes even dared to write sneaky texts back. The conversations were mostly about school, Claude’s play and various questions about Akuma attack proceedings. Eventually, the texts stopped when Claude had a rehearsal for his play at the end of the school day. Marinette was halfway through doing her homework when her phone pinged with a message again. Instead of the group chat though, it was a private message from Félix.

> `**Félix:** Did you get a personal object of hers?`

Marinette had kept watching Lila like a hawk for the entire day, waiting for an opportunity to arrive to snatch something from her. It had taken some patience, but eventually she had managed to stay behind in the changing room before gym class by tying her shoelaces together beforehand and then acting as if someone else had done it to prank her. It had been Félix’s idea and while she still felt uncomfortable lying about it, it had given her the opportunity she needed to sneak over to Lila’s locker and _borrow_ two hair bands from her.

> `**Marinette:** yep`
> 
> `two actually`

She returned to her homework before being interrupted by several pings from her phone again. This time it was the group chat.

> `**The Resident Brat:** Who in here is interested in finding the door of that unbearable lying menace?`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** ME!!!! 👀`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** count me in! I’ll gladly wring that witch’s neck!`
> 
> `**Allen:** do I have a choice at this point?`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** NO YOU DON’T!!! ❤️`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** wait are we recruiting everyone now?????`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** so how are we going to do this? and when?`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** How about tomorrow night?`
> 
> `**Allen:** that soon?`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** we need to verify somethign as soon as possible`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** I AGREE! BURN THE WITCH!`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** While I appreciate the enthusiasm, we won’t burn anyone. The objective is to find her door and find out a few key details.`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** SECRETS!!! 👀`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** so snooping around? we’ll need disguises then.`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** YES!!! ✨ CAN WE GO AS SUPERHEROES?! 😍`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** This isn’t Halloween, Claude.`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** IT’S _ALMOST_ HALLOWEEN!!!!! IT COUNTS!!! 🎃`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** I won’t go as a superhero. she hates them and I don’t want to be targeted in a dream on top of things 😅`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** NO WORRIES YOUR MAJESTY! YOUR VALIANT KNIGHTS ARE HERE TO PROTECT YOU! ⚔️`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** This is absurd. I’ll choose a _regular_ form.`
> 
> `**Allen:** Felix the fox`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** ajsfhkasgl omg`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** YES!!!!! 🦊❤️`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** No. 😑`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** wait what?`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** Allen found an American fox rescue on facebook the other day and they have a fox named Felix that prefers to stay away from the other foxes up in a tree`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** it fits beautifully, doesn’t it? antisocial, a secluded spot far away from others, judging everything from a distance...Félix practically found his soulmate!!! 😍`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** I will not disguise myself as a fox.`
> 
> `**Allen:** you could chase away that cat you keep complaining about 😉`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** As a _fox_? Forget it.`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** it would be cute tough 🤔`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** _Excuse you?!_`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** please keep that up Marinette you might yet convince him! c:`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** Absolutely not!`
> 
> `**Allen:** do you have something against foxes Félix? O:`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** you could bite Claude if he gets annoying ;)`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** ...Tempting.`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** HEY! O:<`
> 
> `oh well, as long as it convinces him 😂`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** omg Marinette are you magic? 😍`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** only in my dreams ✨`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror!:** SMOOTH`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** what’s the rescue called? I need to look up this fox! 🦊`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** Just _whose_ side are you on!?`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** my own`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** I knew I liked you for a reason! 😂`

Speaking of foxes though… 

“Hey Trixx, is everything in the clear?”

“As a blue sky,” the fox kwami replied and flew over to her, a grin on their face. “At least there’s nothing that falls into my jurisdiction.”

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Oh definitely. Since Hawkmoth has the grimoire, we don’t know what tricky enchantments he could have put on the Miraculous,” Tikki agreed.

“Well, definitely no illusions or glamours,” Trixx said and wagged their tail excitedly. “Will you free Duusu now?”

She frowned at the Miracle box. “Maybe we should let every kwami look over the Miraculous, just to make sure?”

“You already let Tikki, Wayzz and me look over it and we’re the main enchanters. If we didn’t find anything, I doubt the others will,” Trixx said and shrugged.

Marinette stood up and went over to the velvet cushion she had put the Peacock Miraculous on.

“Besides,” the fox kwami added with a grin. “You want to find out more about the dreams right? Glamours don’t work in dreams so I can’t help much, but emotions? They pretty much run the whole thing.”

She paused to look at them. “What do you mean ‘glamours don’t work’? I can disguise myself as other people and trick them with it. Sounds pretty much like your powers to me.”

Trixx snickered. “Dreams don’t have solid forms so whatever you dream up is automatically the _truth_. My illusions and glamours are warping reality though which makes them _lies_. How do you think that Félix kid found out your identity? If a glamour would have worked, he would have never been able to make the connection between you and Ladybug.”

_Oh, so_ that’s _why,_ Marinette realised.

“Alright,” she then said and stared at the Peacock Miraculous. 

Would Duusu be able to help her with planning more than even Tikki could? If dreams were her domain, then she’d at least be a huge help in understanding how they worked.

“Time to wake up a kwami.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fox named Felix mentioned is actually a real fox from SaveAFox rescue in Minnesota! I love him so much! 😍 Check out the tag [#FoxNamedFelix](https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/foxnamedfelix/) on Instagram if you want to know what he looks like! ❤️🦊 Please also look at their [YouTube channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCb3KY97ICfIkDJY_p6d7yig) as the videos are extremely wholesome! 😍😍😍


	18. Heist

Another excruciating morning at school had come to an end, full of new lies, accusations, and other annoyances. All things considered, Félix was more than glad to climb down the steps and be away from all those things for the entirety of lunch. The universe, as it seemed, had other plans though.

“Félix, wait!”

He turned around to his cousin with furrowed eyebrows. Was he trying to have that conversation he had first mentioned at the party on Sunday? Marinette, who hastily walked down the steps behind him, certainly supported that theory.

“What is it?” He asked when Adrien eventually came to a halt, the grim look on his face not promising good news.

“Nathalie texted that I should bring you over for lunch.”

“Is Uncle trying to make a meal out of me?” He joked, but the humour was surprisingly met with an even grimmer expression. 

“It’s probably about the party,” Adrien said and threw a short glance at Marinette who was nervously wringing her hands next to him.

“Alright then,” Félix said with a sigh, took off the ring he had stolen a month ago and gave it to Marinette. “Keep it safe in the meantime, please. I suspect it would cause even more of an uproar if I brought it.”

“Of course,” she said and put it on her own ring finger. “Also…uh…if Gabriel is accusing me or something…”

“I’ll have a couple of cover stories ready, no worries. We didn’t commit a crime.”

“Technically–”

“We’re not talking on a technical level here, Marinette. He stole something, we stole it back.”

“Wait, you _what?!_ ” Adrien exclaimed.

Félix waved it off. “Let’s just get this over with. The sooner we arrive there, the sooner I can go.” He turned to Marinette once more. “Go straight home so that Rossi won’t get any ideas. I’ll come by later to fetch the ring. Would that be alright?”

“Sure! Just text me first.”

Félix nodded and then proceeded to drag Adrien to the waiting car. Before he got in, he looked over his shoulder once more to give Marinette a nod.

“Good afternoon,” he said to the driver, who just grunted in reply before starting the car.

Félix, again, asked himself why the car ride was even necessary. The Parisian traffic was similar to that in London: excruciating. He much preferred to use the Tube as his main form of transport back home, or the Metro here, though his Uncle seemed to have an immense distrust towards public transportation. They were about a minute into the car ride when he noticed that Adrien had trouble keeping his eyes open. He decided not to disturb his cousin and let him take a short nap in the twenty minutes it would take to get to the mansion this way. Heaven knew he had looked more like death warmed over with every passing day and deserved more sleep.

_He’s not the only one,_ he thought to himself.

It had been a good idea to plan the search for Lila’s dream door tonight rather than the night before. After going out into the corridor every night for the past _week_ , he had desperately needed a full night’s sleep for once. And Marinette too for that matter. 

Eventually, the car arrived at the mansion and Félix nudged Adrien awake. His cousin yawned. 

“Sorry, didn’t get much sleep recently,” he said sheepishly. “Please don’t tell father.”

Félix rolled his eyes. “I suspect he’d be angry rather than concerned and I don’t plan to get you into trouble. I’ll try to make this lunch as short as possible so you can take a nap in your room afterwards.

“Thanks, but that’s probably not gonna work.”

“Watch me.”

“Félix, where is my ring?”

Well, that played wonderfully into his plan of cutting this lunch short. His uncle hadn’t even entertained false pleasantries and had instead directly cut to the chase before even sitting down.

Félix threw him a perfectly perplexed look, arched eyebrows and all, and pointedly stared at Gabriel’s ring-adorned hand. 

“On your right ring finger, Uncle. You might need a new prescription if you have trouble seeing things clearly from such a short distance.”

His uncle grew visibly frosty at that. “Stop playing your games. What kind of heist are you planning? Don’t think I don’t know about what happened between you and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng on Sunday.”

Adrien choked on his food, the coughing being the only noise to fill the huge dining hall for a moment.

Félix kept his composure and shrugged. “And what would that be? We were merely attempting to find the exit to the gardens, that’s all.”

“You deactivated the security cameras and stole something from my office,” his uncle declared in such a cold voice that it was bordering on murderous.

“Quite the bold accusation, Uncle. Next thing I know, you’ll say that I also _bribed_ Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng to accompany me.”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, I don’t believe her to be the type that would let herself be bribed into participating in a heist.”

Félix raised his eyebrows in honest surprise. “You seem to know an unsettling amount of information about 15-year old girls, Uncle, seeing how you made one of them your quote unquote _muse_ and know another good enough to apparently judge her character in an extreme situation like this. It can’t be something you heard from Adrien either, since your relationship is strained at best. Should I be a worried model citizen and contact the police? Maybe child protective services too while I’m at it?”

“Don’t you _dare!_ ” 

The shout thundered through the room, making Adrien flinch. Félix, meanwhile, had to suppress a grin.

“I don’t see you denying it.”

His uncle clenched his jaw and goodness gracious, if looks could kill, he’d have toppled over right then and there. He seemed to have really hit a nerve. How disconcertingly interesting.

“You will return the brooch that you stole, as well as the ring.”

“I suppose if you don’t offer an alternative explanation, then I’ll just have to go to the police with what you’re letting me assume here,” Félix said without even acknowledging the demand.

Adrien, meanwhile, looked much more awake now than earlier in the car. He kept glancing back and forth between Félix and his father, not unlike he was following a particularly suspenseful tennis match.

Gabriel didn’t reply, just gave his best attempt to turn everything into ice with his stare alone.

“Unless, of course, the truth is even more scandalous than my assumption,” Félix continued, finally taking a bite of his meal and paying no mind to the death glare directed at him. Huh, their chef wasn’t half as bad. At least the duck was delicious.

“About your ridiculous claim that I looked into Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s life for _heinous_ reasons, it’s all professional of course. I know all needed information about contrahends of my fashion contests, designers that participated in my shows, as well as possible future hires,” his uncle eventually said.

Félix hummed, thinking that statement over.

“For rivals and adult designers, that would be an understandable step to take. However, we are talking about a fifteen-year-old here who was fourteen at the time of this contest of yours. Surely you don’t feel _threatened_ by a young teenager when it comes to designing abilities? Then again, seeing your extremely plain and uninspired new line, I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“That’s enough!” His uncle stood up, shaking with anger, and looked like a toddler that was about to throw a temper tantrum.

_Pathetic._

“You will return my possessions or it will be _you_ who’ll be hounded by the police!”

Félix scoffed. “For a family heirloom that belongs to my family in the first place and that you wrongfully withheld from us, as well as a brooch that is an ancient artefact you smuggled here from Tibet? I’d like to see you try to report _that_.”

“You broke into my house and stole from me!”

“Correction: I was _let_ into the house by your assistant. By the way, would you do the reporting yourself or would you let Nathalie do it for you? Do you think not lifting so much as a finger makes you look imposing and untouchable? Because it rather makes you look incompetent to perform even the most basic of tasks.”

At this point, his uncle was _seething_ with rage. If Félix didn’t know him to be Hawkmoth, he would be worried about attracting a whole swarm of Akumas right now. Then again, he had akumatised himself once, hadn’t he? Félix decided that the situation had escalated enough to satisfy him.

“Have a nice rest of lunch, Adrien,” he said as he stood up, threw his uncle a cheeky grin for good measure, and left the dining hall.

He half-expected Gabriel to storm after him, but that fortunately didn’t happen. Only when Félix was outside of the gates did he allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief and readjusted his tie. That had been amusing.

> `**The Resident Brat:** This was by far the worst lunch I’ve had all year, but also one of the most informative ones yet.`


	19. Fallen Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette needs a break from everything and a full night's sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this somehow turned out to be 5k words. I have no idea how that happened.
> 
> I'm using she/her pronouns for Duusu. Sue me.  
> Honestly though, I've gotten so used to mama bird Duusu in Spellbound, that my brain can't just switch pronouns again, so please just deal with it! ;)

Marinette looked at the ring Félix had entrusted her with while Duusu munched away on a bar of chocolate. She had already asked the kwami how Gabriel had come into possession of her Miraculous, Nooroo’s Miraculous, and the grimoire, but Duusu had just sadly shook her head and explained how she couldn’t give out information about any holders, past or present, not even to a guardian. What Marinette _had_ gotten out of her though was that her Miraculous had been fixed. That was at least _something_ , especially since she hadn’t known that it had been broken in the first place.

With her head on the desk, she sighed and listlessly pushed the ring around while Tikki watched her worriedly. 

“I really don’t know where to go from here,” Marinette eventually admitted, catching both of the kwamis’ attention. “We have to defeat Hawkmoth, but everyone’s identities have been compromised, so I can’t choose them again as holders. Besides, I don’t even know if I can trust them right now. It’s Chat and me against the world again, but seeing how five of us were struggling to fight Hawkmoth alone when we encountered him on Heroes’ Day, I don’t see how we two can do it on our own.”

“It’ll be fine, Marinette. You’ll find a way to make it work somehow, you always do,” Tikki said and patted her finger encouragingly.

“And you have the dreams!” Duusu added. “Besides, a whole Miracle box against one single Miraculous? None of them, not even if it was Tikki or Plagg, would stand a chance! You’re Tikki’s chosen, you’ll find other suitable holders, no worries!”

Marinette smiled faintly. “Thanks, you two. It’s just a little hard to stay optimistic right now.”

“We understand,” Tikki cooed soothingly. “Just don’t think that you need to rush into things now that you know Hawkmoth’s identity. The best plans are the ones that are made with time and care.”

“And additional input! Tell Chat Noir about this and ask for his opinion,” Duusu said and then got misty-eyed. “Aww, it has been so long since there has been such an excellent pair of holders for Creation and Destruction. You two are perfect for each other.”

Marinette made a face. “Please don’t you start with that too. Chat and I are just partners and friends.”

Duusu tilted her head. “I don’t understand the issue?”

“We’re not a couple.”

“I never said you were. Platonic love is a very strong kind of love too and you shouldn’t underestimate it! You care for your partner and trust him, don’t you?”

Marinette nodded.

“See? That’s all I meant. You’re in tune and balance each other out. Not all holders of the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses work as well together as you two do.”

There was a chime from her phone and Marinette raised her head to see a new text in the group chat.

“Is Félix done with lunch?” Tikki asked.

Marinette nodded. “Doesn’t sound like it was a pleasant experience though.”

Not that she was surprised.

> `**Fashion Queen:** When you come over you can also get some pastries to go with your ring ;)`
> 
> `**O horror, horror, horror:** CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIGHT!!! 🎵❤️`
> 
> `**pay the piper:** fantastic now I’ll have that stuck in my head for the rest of the day 🙃`
> 
> `**The Resident Brat:** 😑`
> 
> `**Fashion Queen:** askjgfkasjgflak`

“Are you alright, Marinette?” Tikki asked, which was her first clue that she must be blushing or something.

When Adrien had asked if she and Félix were a couple the previous day, she had been able to laugh it off. Now though, with Claude making suggestive comments while also being extremely invested in some sort of relationship between the two of them…it was different. Embarrassing to a degree but also…scary? Because while Marinette was pretty sure about her own feelings on the matter, Claude definitely knew Félix better than she did, so what if there was something the other way around? 

What if—and this was strictly hypothetical and Marinette only entertained it for the purpose of being prepared for any and all possibilities—Félix had romantic feelings for her? It was hard to believe, but with how he had so quickly been persuaded to a fox disguise the previous day with Allegra calling her magic for it and with Claude’s constant teasing comments, there was admittedly a very very small chance of it. Just _how_ though? And what the heck was she supposed to do about it?!

She couldn’t just return his feelings, if he had any, because that just wasn’t how she felt. Honestly, she was extremely confused about any and all romantic feelings towards _anyone_ at this point, with her dream door sign probably summarising it best:

> Love Life: ON HOLD 

It seemed like a good idea to put pursuing a romantic relationship on the back burner while she sorted out much more pressing troubles first, most especially the Hawkmoth situation that she was still despairing over. _After_ that, and possibly also after the troubles with Lila were taken care of, she would consider it again. As things stood, though, she didn’t plan to get her heart broken a second time while in the middle of some sort of magical warfare.

A knock on her trap door made her shriek. For how long had she sat there contemplating her love life?! Had it already been ten minutes? Or had Félix sent that first message already halfway to her house?

“Félix?” She still asked before deciding whether she should open the trap door or not. At the same time, Tikki and Duusu went into hiding.

“Yes, it’s me,” came the reply and she breathed a sigh of relief.

As she opened the trap door she saw him with a plate laden with various bakery goods.

“Oh, I see you already got the pastries,” she said. 

He gave a somewhat helpless and bewildered shrug when he climbed up the rest of the stairs and set the plate down on her desk.

“I feared your father would throw me out if I didn’t accept it.”

“A valid fear,” Marinette said and nodded while trying her best to get her composure back.

“You have a nice room,” Félix noted while looking around and a new form of panic quickly gripped her.

While she had taken down all of her embarrassing pictures of Adrien weeks ago, there was still a lot of embarrassing stuff lying around in plain sight. Most especially though, her room was full of information about her that a person like Félix no doubt knew how to use to his advantage if the situation would call for it.

_No, he isn’t like that. He wouldn’t go against me again,_ Marinette tried to reassure herself, but the tiny speck of doubt at the back of her mind had never fully left. What she had said at the restaurant the previous week still held true: forgiveness couldn’t be bought, just earned.

“Oh, really? Thank you,” she stammered, the panic embarrassingly obvious. She then decided to do what Félix was there for in the first place and picked up the ring from her desk. “Here you go.”

“Thanks for keeping it safe.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad that you _survived_ lunch by the way. What exactly did Monsieur Agreste want?” 

The frown on Félix’s face said it all already.

“Predictably, he demanded I return _his possessions_ to him, notably the ring and the brooch. He seemed especially infuriated about not being able to report me for it and my threat to call the police and child protective services on him.”

“Did he say anything about me?” Marinette asked and was almost afraid of the answer.

“He thinks you to be my accomplice and described you as unbribable, but otherwise didn’t mention you.”

“Unbribable?”

Félix waved it off. “His reply to a sarcastic remark I made. It’s not of any consequence, I assure you. Though I do worry that he’ll notice this specific angle of blackmail soon, so we’d better discredit _him_ before that happens.”

“You mean we should out him as Hawkmoth?”

“I was more thinking along the lines of stealing the Butterfly Miraculous from him, but that works too.”

Marinette sighed and let herself fall back on her desk chair. 

“If only it’d be that easy. Chat and I alone aren’t enough to defeat him, and I don’t have a team anymore. But even if I’d find new holders, they can’t just randomly be thrown into the fray against Hawkmoth without some training first.”

“Then choose new ones and train them. I don’t see what the holdup is about.”

It was her turn to frown.

“I don’t know anyone I can trust with it. And the last time I chose Adrien–”

“You chose my _cousin_?” 

Judging by the sudden grin on his face, Félix seemed to find this fact hilarious.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. For me it was over in a few seconds, but apparently he was trapped in a time loop for _months!_ I think I _traumatised_ him and only because I let my heart make a decision instead of thinking it over properly.”

“Let’s look at it from another angle then,” Félix said and sat down on the chaise longue. “Before, you were worn out from battling Akumas for hours and had just cornered Hawkmoth on the Eiffel Tower. You couldn’t plan much ahead because you never physically fought him before and didn’t have a lot of time. The stakes are different now. You are aware of your opponent’s capabilities, you’ve erased an entire variable from the equation by acquiring the Peacock Miraculous _and_ you know his identity. What is stopping you from ambushing him in his sleep?”

“Common decency, for one,” Marinette muttered. “But you’re right. If I’m being smart about this, this could actually work with less holders. We’ll still need at least one more though.”

Both of them fell into contemplative silence for a moment. There were several options for holders, some better than others and Marinette was unsure about most of them. She’d definitely have to brainstorm with Chat Noir and compare notes before deciding anything for certain. Maybe if–

“You look so melancholic. Like a fallen angel.”

Marinette froze and slowly turned around to see Duusu floating behind her and looking at Félix in awe. Perfect silence, this one awkward and tense, enveloped the room for a few seconds; she stared back and forth between the kwami and Félix, whose eyes had widened significantly.

“Duusu, you can’t just fly out into the open like that!” Marinette eventually hissed, her panic now in earnest and perfectly justified.

“But he knows anyway, so what’s the harm?” The kwami said with a giggle and then proceeded to fly circles around Félix. “Very remarkable. And calculating. Why not make _him_ a holder?”

Marinette let out a spluttering noise, before eventually turning to Félix who looked like he was dying to ask _a lot_ of questions but didn’t quite know where to start. Remembering how she had first reacted to Tikki, she really couldn’t blame him.

“I’m _so_ sorry about her. Duusu is a little…uh…excitable, it seems.”

“Alright, where did you hide my door?”

Marinette couldn’t help but snort. “Nope, this isn’t a dream I’m afraid. Welcome to my life,” she joked and tapped one of her earrings.

“Ah, so this has something to do with the Miraculous,” Félix said slowly, still a puzzled look on his face before eventually shaking his head with a grin. “I think this might still need some getting used to.”

Marinette took the plate of pastries and rolled her chair over to the chaise longue to offer him one. 

“Take a croissant, they’re some of Papa’s specialties.”

“Will this be followed up by an explanation as to who and…er… _what_ that is? No offense.”

“None taken!” Duusu chirped happily.

Marinette hesitantly bit her lip and nodded. She had never needed to explain what a kwami was before as the temporary holders had all been in a time pitch upon first meeting the small gods and there hadn’t been much time for explanations. 

“Alright, full disclosure: _I’m_ not magical _at all_. All I do is borrow some magic when I’m Ladybug and use it. As to who I’m borrowing it from.” She looked over her shoulder. “Tikki?”

A sigh was heard from her desk before the ladybug kwami floated over and sat down on her shoulder.

“I see,” Félix said, his eyes shining with realisation. “The Miraculouses are connected to these creatures then?”

Marinette nodded. “They’re called kwamis and are something like miniature gods.”

“Why would gods let themselves be used by humans like some form of slaves?”

She was taken aback by that question and, frankly, by the accusation that she was _using_ Tikki or the other kwamis in such a way.

“An excellent question,” Tikki answered and seemed thoroughly unbothered. “You see, the universe wasn’t always balanced and magic has always existed in some way. We took a liking to humans a couple thousand years ago and realised that you were intelligent beings able to use us in order to right the universe again. It benefitted you as much as it benefitted us, so we kept up this partnership. Of course, some Miraculouses fall into the wrong hands from time to time, just as it happened now, and then the relationship between holder and kwami is more comparable to slavery. Usually, though, it is a partnership and friendship.”

“I see,” Félix said again. “And each Miraculous has a kwami?”

“That is correct!” Duusu said. “Oh, he’s so smart! You _really_ should consider making him a holder!”

“Duusu!” Marinette hissed, having half a mind to recall the kwami to her Miraculous.

“A holder?” Félix asked, with his typical raised eyebrows.

“Don’t listen to her,” Marinette said and waved her hands somewhat frantically. “Besides, I need to talk to Chat about that first.”

“Oh, he’d be _thrilled,_ I imagine,” Félix said in a deadpan tone and with a roll of his eyes. “Especially after we parted on such _peaceful_ terms the last time.”

Marinette winced. “He can be a little set in his views sometimes, but I think I’ll be able to convince him when I say that _Marinette_ trusts you.”

“There is a difference? I assumed at least the two of you would know who each other is.”

She shook her head. “We don’t. It’s too dangerous in case one of us gets in a situation where Hawkmoth could find out what we knew. And then there’s the dreams. I haven’t seen Chat in the corridor yet and if his door isn’t protected, just like Gabriel’s, then it’d be easy for someone to find out my identity on top of his.”

Félix seemed thoughtful at that. “You know, there _is_ a _chat noir_ running around in the corridors, just a literal one.”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide. “The cat?”

“It doesn’t have to be him, especially since it didn’t seem actively hostile towards me which I would expect Chat Noir to be, but it’s still a possibility.”

She glanced over to the peacock kwami who had sat down on the plate of pastries and seemed to contemplate whether she wanted to eat one or not.

“Duusu, do you think it’s safe to tell Chat Noir about the dreams?”

“Absolutely!” She chirped. “It’d be good for you two to be on the same page. How will you explain how you found out Hawkmoth’s identity otherwise?”

“She has a point,” Félix said.

“Yeah, just…I’m worried that he’ll find out my identity through this or will otherwise get nosy. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, but I dunno. It already feels like betrayal that you found out my identity before he did. I always thought he’d be the first one I’d tell.”

It really did sting, especially since she had no one else to blame than herself for this.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to find out about it either.”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s not your fault. Tikki was right and I just shouldn’t have let you into my dream in the first place.”

Tikki nodded. “At least you learned your lesson.”

“I did, which is exactly why I’m not sure about Chat. I bet he’d be able to get past…uh…himself I guess and Hammy.”

“We talked about additional protections already,” Tikki said with a sigh.

“And you’re in possession of _me_ now! I can lock your door for everyone but yourself, no problem,” Duusu said and eventually decided on a lemon-flavoured macaron.

“You can _do_ that?” Félix asked, astonished.

“Dreams are emotional constructs which makes them fall under my jurisdiction,” Duusu said with a grin before continuing to nibble on the sweet treat.

“How practical,” Marinette said with a sigh. “So it’s definitely safe to tell Chat then?”

Duusu nodded vehemently.

“Which still leaves us with the annoying task of finding Lila’s door tonight,” Félix said.

Marinette groaned. “I forgot that it’s already _tonight_. Can’t you point us in the right direction or something, Duusu?”

The kwami tilted her head. “I never met this Lila person, so I’m not sure. I can try though.”

Marinette walked out of her door, already disguised as one of their bakery’s regulars—a kind old lady that bought two milk breads, three baguettes and one chocolate croissant every Saturday for as long as she could remember. She leaned against the wall next to her door to wait and noticed one small change on her sign.

> Love Life: IT’S COMPLICATED 

_Oh, for god’s sake!_

Why did her little tirade from earlier have to immediately reflect on her dreams?! Especially after she had come to the very rational conclusion that _on hold_ was a very good state for her love life to be in.

The mail slot of her door suddenly squeaked and she looked down to see Hammy crawl out of it, a blue feather in his mouth. Marinette cupped her hand to let the hamster climb onto it and then took the feather from him. It was a pretty feather, different from the amoks she had purified before as it didn’t have anything sinister about it at all. Shimmering in a cerulean that seemed almost turquoise depending on how she held it, it was a stark contrast to the dreaded indigo feathers she had dealt with so far. She just hoped that it would really work and lead them to Lila’s door like Duusu had promised.

The sound of a door being unlocked made her raise her head and look over to Félix’s door diagonally across from her own that night. After three more clicks, it opened.

“Seeing how you’re holding the death hamster, I’m going to assume you’re Marinette instead of an old lady. Any reason for that particular disguise?” He asked after just one glance while locking his door once more.

“Any reason why you _aren’t_ disguised yet?”

“Whether I come out of my door changed or change in the corridor doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“Still going for the fox?” She asked with a grin and dreamt up some treats for Hammy to nibble on.

“Do I _look_ like the kind of person who’d choose an _animal_ appearance?”

She had to giggle at how _appalled_ he sounded.

“No, not really actually,” she admitted.

A meow interrupted them and lo and behold, _the cat_ trotted over from wherever it had come from.

“Speak of the devil,” Félix muttered and was she imagining it or did the cat actually throw him a sour look in response?

Their short conversation about the possible identity of the cat came to mind, and Marinette looked at it in more detail. It, in turn, sat down with its tail majestically wrapped around its legs and regarded her with a similar curiosity. Oh, right, she was looking like the nice old lady right now. 

She had always believed that if she ever saw Chat Noir out of his mask, that she would recognise him immediately, but she had expected to look into a human face then, not at a literal cat. And perhaps she was just buying too much into Félix’s theory because she _wanted_ it to be true since it honestly would be…kind of sweet actually to think that her Chaton had been wandering around the corridor comforting and protecting her. That curious gleam in its green eyes was strikingly similar to her partner, but then again, it might just be the cat eyes.

“You know, it could still be a dream guard, right?” Marinette said and then looked at Félix. “I made Chat Noir my dream guard and he is pretty sentient too. Who says that a cat guard can’t be sentient?”

The cat’s tail tip curled and it gave what sounded like a mrow of approval.

“Well, we have other business to attend to tonight anyway that doesn’t involve figuring out if the cat is a dreamer or a dream creation,” Félix pointed out.

As if on cue, a door a little down the corridor opened—Claude’s door—and out of it stepped Claude himself, Allegra and Allen. At least Marinette suspected it to be them. They all wore superhero suits, just like they had said they would and it might just be because of her experience with such a wardrobe that she recognised them at all. 

Speaking of Claude, he halted several metres away from them and started staring back and forth between her and the hamster in her hand before his eyes eventually narrowed on the latter.

_“And so, we meet again, Hammy,”_ he said in a serious tone.

Hammy, on the other hand, just briefly lifted his head to look at Claude and gave off a quiet squeak before going back to nibbling on a nut. 

_“What were you_ all _doing in Claude’s dream?”_ Marinette meanwhile asked, switching to English.

Claude’s narrow-eyed stare shifted into a beaming smile. _“Making sure our outfits wouldn’t clash, of course! We have a designer goddess among us and it would be a grave sin to offend her,”_ Claude declared theatrically and bowed. 

He wore a cobalt blue superhero suit with white gloves and markings, rounded up with a fitting mask in the same colour scheme. Allegra had meanwhile opted for a white suit with black patterns that reminded Marinette of musical notes. Last but not least, Allen had decided on a green-white suit with a hood that reminded her of Nino’s suit as Carapace.

_“You really went all out for the theme, huh?”_ Félix said and couldn’t have sounded more unimpressed if he tried.

Allegra grinned. _“Well, it’s fun trying something new once in a while. What are you going to disguise as?”_

_“The fox!”_ Claude exclaimed excitedly. _“I won’t accept anything else!”_

Félix rolled his eyes. _“Prepare for disappointment then.”_

His appearance then changed into that of a young man with curly dark hair in formal wear.

_“Seriously? You could have gone for_ anyone _and you go for_ Glenn Gould _?”_ Claude asked, exasperated.

_“We can have a discussion about your disregard towards famous pianists of the 20_ _th century another time.”_

_“It isn’t_ disregard! _”_ Claude argued. _“I’m just saying that hitting keys is easier than getting a solid note out of a violin or flute and–”_

While the two of them argued about which instrument was the most challenging to master, Marinette helped Hammy climb back through the mail slot.

“Okay!” She said loudly to get everyone’s attention and held up the feather. _“I have something that will help us find the door.”_

_“Did you dream that up?”_ Allen asked.

Marinette shrugged. _“Kind of. It’ll lead us to Lila’s door so that we won’t have to search the whole night.”_

_“Well, as long as that works and we can kick her ass,”_ Allegra said with a grin that reminded Marinette of Alya.

Some form of bittersweet nostalgia filled her at the sight—of a time where she hadn’t needed to think twice about being able to trust Alya and where Rena Rouge had still been out and about. With her becoming the Guardian, an era had ended and her team was gone. And while she might not just be a thirteen-year-old who got handed a powerful magical artefact and a god anymore—she was so much more now and if she hadn’t been able to fall before, then she had to be _infallible_ now—she was still a leader at heart. She knew the shots and when to call them and had plans A to Z mapped out in her mind. This might just be a dream and she hadn’t actually met Claude, Allegra and Allen in person before—and perhaps it was also them in superhero getups that pulled at her heartstrings—but she automatically felt herself slip back into her old role like into a comfortable favourite sweater. 

_“Alright, then let’s do this.”_

Marinette let the feather fall, but instead of slowly drifting to the ground, it got carried away in an invisible breeze, down the corridor, and much faster than she had thought it would.

A swear word escaped her mouth that made Claude let out a horrified gasp—she couldn’t quite tell if it was an honest one or just pure theatrics. Instead of paying any mind to the difference in vulgarity between native English speakers and her as a second language speaker that used English swears perhaps a little too freely, she started to pursue the feather. Meanwhile she was very aware of how the old lady she was impersonating probably hadn’t run like this in a couple of decades at least and thanked the dream for letting her bend what was feasible and realistic to her needs. Still, she no doubt looked ridiculous.

The five of them followed the feather down the corridor and into a side-arm. With a glance back, Marinette took note of the doors at the bend and remembered their design—it would make it easier to find her way back later. That glance also made her notice something else: the black cat was following them. Again. Perhaps that should alarm her, but the theory that it possibly was her partner had stubbornly welded itself into her mind, making the whole thing feel only that much more like a regular superhero mission. Félix was right though and this conundrum should be food for thought later—preferably when she was awake—rather than now. 

_No distractions during a mission!_ Her combat-drilled mind automatically scolded. 

She looked forward again. The doors in this corridor were different than just a couple of nights ago when she had been here on the lookout for Gabriel’s door. The white door with a mobile of paper cranes hanging above it was definitely something she would have remembered otherwise, and most other designs seemed foreign to her, too. There was the occasional vague familiarity among the strangeness, but generally Marinette felt like she was in foreign waters. Shouldn’t Lila’s door be closer to her own? After all, she knew her personally and had a lot of run-ins and conflicts with her in the daytime. Then again, if there had ever been a door she didn’t want to have close to hers, then it was Lila’s. She was just starting to question the feather’s accuracy when it slowed down and eventually came to a halt.

_“Apparently this is it,”_ Marinette said as the feather fell down in front of a very plain-looking door. 

If it hadn’t been for her trust in Duusu’s magic, she never would have considered it to begin with, looking like a regular apartment door rather than anything overly fancy, imaginative or at all identifying. She was almost a little bit disappointed as she had internally hoped for something grand and imposing befitting Lila’s illusions of grandeur.

_“Okay, who’ll open it?”_ Allen asked and looked between her and Félix.

A good question, as _she_ definitely was hesitating. Frankly, she was a little too used to someone else being the distraction, the tester, the daring one to take the first step, to immediately step forward. As the infallible hero, she couldn’t take such risks, couldn’t make mistakes, and even when she told herself that this was a dream, instincts and habit were hard things to fight. Surprisingly, it was Claude who jumped forward fearlessly in an attempt to open it.

_“Better stand back, in case it’s something that jumps out,”_ he said and they all wisely followed his warning.

_“But you don’t have a personal object,”_ Marinette cut in.

Claude shrugged. _“It’ll still trigger whatever wards are guarding the door, if there are any.”_

Relief shouldn’t have been the first thing to feel upon the realisation that she didn’t need to put her hand into the fire after all. It was moronic and cowardly—she was _Ladybug!_ —but the feeling had snuck up on her before she could snuff it out. Had she really sunken that low? Letting others do her dirty work, to an extent even taking advantage of them? It sounded like something Hawkmoth would do and the sheer comparison chilled her to the bone and filled her with immense guilt. She was a hero, so she had to be the brave and selfless one! Before she could interject, however, Claude put his hand on the door handle. Allegra wasn’t the only one to hold her breath when he, without much preamble, pushed it down and…and nothing. He rattled at it and pulled at the door.

_“Looks like we’ll need personal objects for it after all,”_ Marinette said and, with a shudder, realised that it was down to either Félix or her again.

Well, she was the one who had faced down Akumas before, so she could also face whatever would await her behind Lila’s door. Or at least that’s what she told herself to stay calm. There were few people that could _really_ get under her skin and Lila was one of them. Whatever was behind her door might not be a physical thing at all, but rather psychological trickery. A wince almost escaped her when she thought of the many invisible scars she bore from their altercations and even from those with Chloé in the past. Perhaps Félix had the right idea with therapy, but where would she find a therapist who she could tell that she was Ladybug? Marinette shook her head, making a mental note to come back to that another time, and then hesitantly glanced at Félix, who gave her a similar look.

“I have the better reflexes out of us two,” she eventually said—not sure if that was actually true since he _was_ quite nimble—braced herself and stepped forward.

When she laid her hand on the door handle she shivered and hesitated for a second. Allowing herself a deep, calming breath, she eventually pushed it down…or rather tried to. It didn’t budge one bit. Just like with Claude, the door refused to open, even with no visible locks or wards in sight.

_“What does that mean?”_ She asked and turned around.

_“Are you sure you have a personal object of hers?”_ Allen asked worriedly.

She nodded. _“Absolutely sure.”_ The hair bands even had some of Lila’s hair still caught in them, more personal was hardly possible!

_“When a door is unmovable like this, it means that the person isn’t in their dreams right now,”_ Félix said.

_“Then…she’s awake? It’s like two in the morning though!”_

Claude shrugged. _“Insomnia is a thing, so it’s not impossible for her to be awake. Or she’s obsessed with a show or a good book or something. It happens.”_

_“So, what? We come here again later?”_ Allegra asked.

Marinette shook her head. _“If it’s really insomnia, then we don’t know when she’ll actually be asleep and would just end up losing sleep over it ourselves. Or_ rest _for that matter. It’s probably best if we all go back to our own dreams and try again tomorrow night, or the night after.”_

_Coward,_ her mind supplied.

Allen nodded. _“That sounds reasonable.”_

A _meow_ came from the ground and Marinette looked down to see the black cat sit at her feet and stare up at her…in worry? 

“Was that a ‘yes’ for sleep?” She asked, knowing the cat would somehow understand. It nodded.

Claude gasped. _“You’re in cahoots with the cat!”_

She was still too wound-up from almost opening Lila’s door to think of a witty response—a wildly beating heart apparently didn’t translate well into dreams, but she felt the very same after-shock dread. Some Akuma attacks were like that, where, after everything had been said and done, she was still in fight or flight mode, ready to tackle someone out of the way of danger or to throw her yo-yo right at an Akuma’s head while her heart pounded in her ears so loudly that she could barely hear her surroundings. Chat Noir always called them the ‘after-fight jitters,’ a term that she had adopted for that phenomenon as well. This might not have been a fight, but in her mind, it might as well almost have been one. Marinette was _definitely_ suffering from after-fight jitters now.

Her lips strained to paint a convincing smile on her face and judging by the look Félix was throwing her, it was noticeable. 

_“Yeah, uh…sorry this didn’t work out today. See you another night?”_ She said, barely registering the words while her instinctual flight response after a fight— _gonna detransform soon, must get away!_ —kicked in, that unfortunately often came with the same nonsensical tongue that devised the most ridiculous of excuses. She wasn’t witty when out of _the zone_ and in a hurry.

With the desperate hope of not being too rude and of them not noticing— _show no weakness, you don’t know if you can trust them in the future_ —as well as a certain level of severe trust issues apparently, Marinette eventually bolted away. She heard Félix say something behind her along the lines of “leave her be” when someone—Claude? Allegra? Maybe even Allen?—had apparently tried to go after her. A small thankful smile made it onto her face, but she didn’t turn around for him to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note about the swearing thing: I recently found out that there's a sensibility difference when it comes to English vulgarity depending on if a native speaker rates it or a non-native speaker, who speakers a language other than English in their everyday life, rates it. I drop the f-bomb frequently and no one is appalled, but apparently in the eyes of english-speakers I have a potty-mouth. who knew? :'D


	20. Beach Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reminiscence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order for Félix to become an expert on the Giant's Causeway, _I_ had to become an expert on the Giant's Causeway. Not that I regret it, but I hope you appreciate my drive for accuracy! 😂

Waves crashed against the hexagonal basalt columns and burst into tiny water droplets which shimmered in the golden light of sunset. Sixty million years did these stones stand against the Atlantic Ocean and weather its storms year in year out. While they had in reality been formed by rapidly cooling basaltic lava from an underwater volcano during the Tertiary—a process known as _columnal jointing_ —and as a result have become an area of global geological importance, the Giant’s Causeway on the edge of the Antrim plateau in Northern Ireland had also inspired several legends in its time. In an attempt by people of ancient times to understand the reason for its existence, they had taken one of their heroes, Fionn mac Cumhaill, and made him a sixteen metres tall giant.

Sometimes, the Causeway was said to be a collection of stepping stones that had allowed Fionn to travel at will between the Antrim and the Scottish Coast without getting his feet wet. Others claim that Fionn had built it to meet a Scottish female giant he was in love with so that he could bring her back to Ireland and marry her. However, the most prevalent and widely-spread legend was of a different nature.

In it, Fionn mac Cumhaill had an ongoing rivalry with the Scottish giant Benandonner. The two of them threatened each other over the sea of Moyle until Fionn eventually challenged him to a fight. The Causeway had then been built as a way for the two giants to meet. Upon its completion, however, Fionn noticed the sheer size of Benandonner and fled back to Ireland, losing a shoe in his haste—a detail no doubt inspired by a shoe-shaped rock that remains by the Causeway till this day. Once home, Fionn’s wife hid him in a baby's cot to trick Benandonner, who, upon arriving, promptly fled back to Scotland when seeing the size of the baby, thinking its father must be a giant among giants, destroying the Causeway in his wake. 

For hundreds of years people had believed those stories to be the truth, some might even _still_ think it to be true. Either way, it was undeniable that the Giant’s Causeway had _something_ to it that just inspired people to tell stories. ‘The jewel in the crown of the fabulous coast of Antrim,’ like David Bellamy had once described it and Félix couldn’t help but agree. World Heritage status, protected by the National Trust, being a National Nature Reserve _and_ as a symbol for Northern Ireland; the Giant’s Causeway was no doubt something extraordinary. Despite seaside basalt columns like it existing all over the world, there was still something about it that made it different from the multiple basalt column formations in Iceland, the Basalt Cliffs of South Korea, _Los Organos_ in Spain or even _Ghenh Da Dia_ in Vietnam.

Félix sighed and looked at the eternal sunset sky. He had researched everything there was to know about the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland, probably knew as much, if not even more, than any tour guide there did. It had been an attempt to cope with his father’s loss by trying to find an answer as to _why_ he had chosen this specific location as his last dream. All it had done, however, was fill his head with more knowledge about Northern Ireland’s biggest tourist attraction than he would ever need to know.

Still, looking at it now and thinking about all the stories it had inspired and how much meaning it had to people…it was somewhat of a comfort. It meant that he wasn’t alone in connecting something special with the place. His father had seen tranquillity there, otherwise he wouldn’t have picked it, as well as nostalgia and inspiration. Félix could console himself a little with the thought that his father’s last dream had been about something peaceful he had always found joy in. He, too, found the dream strangely relieving. 

Claude would have a fit if he knew that Félix still visited the place to this day, but he supposed everyone was allowed their little setbacks. Just as an alcoholic was allowed a glass of wine from time to time, Félix was allowed to visit his father’s dead dream and reminisce. It was a comfort. A place where he could go to calm down when things became too stressful and he needed a break. The happenings of the previous few days alone were reason enough for it.

Speaking of stressful times though, he really would need to get some rest if he wanted to get through the remainder of this week.

Like always, he was reluctant to leave, which made it clear just how much he _shouldn’t_ do this anymore and that it still was a bad coping mechanism, maybe even an addiction as well. Forcing himself to stand up and turn his back to the sunset, he walked towards the red door with the gold ornaments that was set within the pillars of the causeway. How strange that it was only visible to him and no one else. 

From briefly visiting his eldery neighbour’s dream with his father once, he knew what the door of Mrs. Davidson had looked like. Back in August, she had sadly died from a stroke and Félix had never been able to find her door again. It had been wooden, with white paint that chipped off in some places and a wreath—always decorated to fit for the according season or holiday—hanging on it. A plate in swirly letters had announced _Davidson_ and there had even been a doorbell. In other words, it had been a very identifying door and it had just _disappeared_ from the corridor.

While the exact mechanics still remained a mystery to him, Félix at least knew one thing for certain: only the doors of those who died in their sleep remained. They never woke up again, so why should their dreams end? It always gave him an eerie feeling when he thought about how many doors in the corridor were actually preserved dreams of dead people. The thought of asking Duusu had crossed his mind hours before when he had been at Marinette’s place, but he had then decided that he actually didn’t want to know the answer.

“Goodbye, Dad,” he said, just like he always did when leaving his father’s dream. 

After the undertaking from earlier, this break had really been needed for him to find any sound sleep at all. It also, strangely, had filled Félix with paranoia of who exactly dwelled in these corridors, which was why he decided to make himself invisible for the short trek back to his door. Just a few steps and he was standing under the familiar lantern again that always reminded him of the old parts of London and his favourite book shop. 

He was about to take out his keys—while still invisible—and unlock his door, when another door opened. From what Marinette had said, it was Alya’s door, but the thought of ‘ _Alya is a dreamwalker too?_ ’ didn’t even have time to fully form before someone else stepped out of the dream.

Lila Rossi.

Félix froze and quickly thought back to their investigation from earlier. They hadn’t been able to enter Lila’s dreams because she hadn’t been in them. However, as it seemed, that _wasn’t_ because she was awake, but rather because she herself had left her dreams.

Scrapping the plan to go back into his own dream—not while _she_ was near and could slip in with him—Félix noiselessly power-walked over to the beech tree next to Mylène’s door. While he _had_ said that he wasn’t the kind of person to change into an animal form, this was an _emergency_ and invisibility had one major flaw: it required immense concentration. If Félix would even so much as _think_ about something visible on himself, he’d be visible again and Lila would notice him. A human appearance would catch her attention though, so it was strategically advantageous to change into a blackbird and hide among the tree branches.

He watched how Lila sauntered down the corridor like she owned the place, only to stop in front of the sticker-covered door and rattle on it. It didn’t budge. She let out a huff of frustration before moving on and even trying to open _his_ door. Part of him wanted her to try out Marinette’s door just to see her getting chased away by Chat Noir—it would no doubt be immensely satisfying. Lila, however, moved on to a princess-pink door instead and opened it without any trouble. Only when the door closed behind her did Félix relax again.

A sigh of relief that wasn’t his own and came from above, startled him. He looked up to see _the cat_. At the back of his mind he remembered how felines and birds never had a good history of getting along, so Félix decided to change back into himself and lean against the tree.

“Some door guard you are, hiding away,” he said and looked up at the cat.

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise when it answered.

“I never claimed to be a guard,” it—no, _he_ —said.

“So, you’re a person after all,” Félix said and frowned. The cat’s voice was annoyingly familiar but he couldn’t quite place who it belonged to. “Spying around then?”

The cat jumped on a lower branch. “As long as I’m not in my dream, nothing is going on behind that door and I can’t be manipulated. It’s as simple as that.”

“But you also don’t get any rest,” Félix pointed out.

The cat gave the feline equivalent of a shrug. “What else is new?”

Félix, meanwhile, walked over to the sticker-covered door. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that this is yours?”

The cat jumped down from the tree and trotted over, sitting down in front of the door.

“Who knows? Maybe I just like it here,” he said with what looked like a cheeky grin that was unsettlingly wide for a cat.

Félix narrowed his eyes at him, looked at the door in detail and then back to the cat. Like an epiphany, everything suddenly clicked in his head and he _knew_ why the voice sounded so familiar. He felt like an idiot for not realising it sooner.

“So, care to explain yourself, _Adrien_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen...I love writing the sunshine child as a cat okay?! ;w; Congrats on everyone who guessed it correctly! ❤️  
> Though this Adrien isn't Spellbound-Adrien and I have to keep reminding me of that, since Spellbound-Adrien is much sassier and more daring than canon Adrien is at this point 😂  
> And let's not forget the revelation about Lila! Congrats again to everyone who guessed it! ;)


	21. Flower Languages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Adrien starts to get more involved in the plot. I love the dynamic of those three. And yes, I'm biased from Spellbound, I don't care. Damn I'm craving pastries now.

After the failure of the previous night, Marinette walked into school with a frown. If she herself didn’t need to catch up on some sleep, she would have looked forward to seeing if Lila was dead-tired from her apparent insomnia. At this point, however, it would just mean that both of them were tired and grumpy at the same time and if that wasn’t a surefire way to get into a fight with the resident liar, then she didn’t know what was. For the record, she still tried to avoid confrontations with her if at all possible.

While suppressing a yawn, she arrived at her locker, fairly on time for her standards just on the brink of being late. The locker room was half empty at this point with mostly students from other classes lingering around, as well as Nathaniel who was showing Marc something in his sketchbook. When she opened her locker, however, she was surprised to find a bouquet of purple flowers in a small vase. 

She looked behind herself to make sure that she wasn’t being pranked before taking the card from between the petals.

> _ Monkshood _
> 
> _meaning: approaching danger_
> 
> _Meet me at Palais du Luxembourg, Rue de Vaugirard, the height of Rue Férou immediately after school this afternoon. Make sure you aren’t followed._
> 
> _\- Félix_

Granted, after literally everything that had happened this past week—or for that matter, these past two years—she should be used to such things by now. Honestly though, she had had _a night_.

“What the fuck,” she muttered to herself, turning it over to make sure she hadn’t missed something.

What was even more confusing or infuriating—she wasn’t quite sure which feeling outweighed the other—was the fact that Félix was pointedly _ignoring_ her while Adrien kept sending her or him glances over his shoulder when Lila wasn’t looking. Even during lunch, when she had offered Félix to go to her place, he had declined saying he needed to go home to do something. Her texts, asking him what was going on had also remained unanswered until the end of lunch where the reply had just been an ominous:

> `**Félix:** You’ll see later.`

That was how she came to stand in front of a restaurant called _Mademoiselle Angelina_ with the realisation that her Chat Noir-themed jacket was much too light for this cold October day and with a frown painted on her face while she looked to either direction of the street. She swore to god, if Félix had planned to invite her to a five star restaurant only so she couldn’t pay for her own meal this time, she was going to wring his neck!

Luckily, Marinette didn’t need to wait long before not one, but _two_ familiar blondes rounded the corner and walked towards her. Her glowering frown turned into one of confusion.

What was Adrien doing here? Did this have something to do with the disastrous lunch the previous day?

Before she could theorise further or come to the catastrophising part of her general thought-process, the two caught up to her.

“I’m glad you found the place, come on,” Félix said and, to her huge relief, walked past the restaurant and further down the street.

“Will I get an explanation _now_?” She muttered, at this point terribly sullen about his evasive behaviour.

“Yes. I needed to snatch Adrien without arousing suspicion amongst the classmates and Rossi. She would have no doubt followed or made someone follow us if she had known you were involved. Thus I asked you to meet us here. This is merely a location I frequently pass on my way home.”

Marinette’s grumpiness faded in light of this new information but her frustration wasn’t fully lifted yet.

“And _why_ couldn’t you have told me that earlier?! A quick text or comment about snatching Adrien inconspicuously would have been enough.”

Félix gave her an appraising look, bordering on judgmental. “No offense, but you’re not the best actor in stressful situations. Arousing any kind of suspicion would have been counterproductive, so I chose to eradicate that risk completely.”

Marinette grumbled the beginnings of several sentences in her defense, but none of them were finished as she couldn’t really find a solid point. Slightly pouting, she decided to look over to Adrien instead who rubbed the back of his neck in obvious embarrassment.

“Sorry for making this so complicated,” he said.

She caught Félix rolling his eyes. “Stop being absurd. Rossi was the one making this complicated by her annoying habit of clinging to you and following your every step.”

“So…does this mean we’re headed for your place then?” Marinette asked and was suddenly glad to have taken a bag full of rejected bakery goods with her. 

Her only answer was a nod, followed by a tense silence that dipped into awkward and lasted for the entire rest of the walk. The apartment building they eventually arrived at was a fairly modern one, standing in a stark contrast to the olden charm of the study room/library of Félix’s father from his dream. Then again, the more traditional Parisian apartments were hard to get on short notice and him and his mother moving to Paris had definitely seemed like short notice from what he had told her.

Only after a thoroughly awkward elevator ride and after Félix unlocked a door to a floor-to-ceiling-windowed dream of an apartment, did he decide to break the silence.

“Tell her what you told me last night.”

Marinette quickly tore herself away from admiring the interior decor, the compliment she had been about to make immediately forgotten, to instead turn around to Adrien and Félix.

“Wait, last _night_?” She asked.

Had Félix woken up to a call from Adrien or…or something? That Adrien was nervously shuffling on the spot and avoiding eye contact didn’t really help her find some clarity either.

“Feel free to sit down somewhere. While you two talk this out, I’m going to put the kettle on to make some tea,” Félix said and walked over to the kitchen corner of the living room.

“Brits,” Marinette muttered with a grin and an eye roll, mostly to distract herself from her nerves.

“I heard that.”

She ended up sitting down on the sofa, Adrien awkwardly sitting down next to her. He kept looking back and forth between the fake plant on the coffee table and her, before eventually sighing.

“So, uh, I know about the dream corridor.”

That had _not_ been what she had expected to hear.

“ _What?!_ ”

She cringed when Adrien flinched at her outburst and she suddenly felt like she had kicked a puppy.

“Sorry, I mean…uh…did Félix tell you about it?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’ve known for a while longer than both of you actually. When I saw you in the corridor recently I wanted to talk to you about it, but I couldn’t do it while Lila was near and…well, when it’s not Lila it’s a photoshoot or my stupid curfew. I’m sorry.”

The realisation that Adrien had _seen_ her in the corridor while she hadn’t seen _him_ still needed to sink in. Then again, if he had known about the dreams for longer than even Félix had, then he probably had enough practice to let himself appear invisible.

“Don’t apologise. This isn’t _your_ fault,” Félix said from the kitchen.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck again. “Still. I probably should have tried harder than I did, or at least spoken to you in the corridor.”

“How did you find your door? I-if you don’t mind sharing. Sorry,” Marinette stuttered, immediately berating herself for it.

Adrien just threw her a sad smile. “It was after my mum disappeared. So, two years at this point. I never met anyone in my dreams though and the only people I had personal possessions from were either people whose dreams I really didn’t want to see, or Chloé. I tried to find my mother’s door, but even when I did, I couldn’t enter her dreams—her barriers are too strong.” He shrugged. “After I realised that the dreaming made me miss out on actually resting, I stopped it, especially when my schedule picked up. I didn’t really have a reason to go out again, until recently.”

“Recently? You mean because of Félix and me?”

Adrien shook his head. “No, long before that. A few months ago someone was rattling on my door, so I became aware of it again. Since I never met anyone in the corridor before, I was afraid to open it and look that night, but the next night I stepped out, disguised as a cat, and hid while I waited for the person to return.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Marinette interjected and flailed her arms around wildly, almost accidentally hitting Adrien and even Félix when he came over to them. “ _You’re_ the cat?!”

While Félix watched her antics with a grin and sat down in the armchair next to the sofa, Adrien looked at her sheepishly and nodded.

“I…probably heard quite a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

Marinette paled, all the conversations she had had in the cat’s presence flitting through her head. _Oh god,_ she had _cuddled_ _Adrien_ after her nightmare of Chat Blanc! 

“What exactly did you hear?” She half-whispered, half-squeaked the question.

He awkwardly avoided eye contact again.

“I know you have a crush on me,” he eventually admitted shyly.

Could the ground, ever so kindly, swallow her? Please and thank you! Marinette couldn’t form words for a moment of absolute mortification and only managed garbled noises. She then covered her head with her hands, welcoming the darkness and the illusion of hiding from the world.

“Just kill me, Félix,” she muttered.

“Why _me_?!” Came the offended reply.

“Because you were the one who gifted me poisonous flowers this morning.”

Focusing on _that_ was better than focusing on the reason for her immense embarrassment. This was the worst day of her life!

“They were a means to get a message across with its required urgency.”

Eventually, Marinette let her hands drop from her face once more and she proceeded to stare at the ceiling in an oh-god-what-have-I-done kind of way. Maybe she could ask her mother if it was possible to stay with her aunt in Shanghai for the remainder of the school year. But then she’d need to learn Chinese and would possibly even offend people by not speaking it perfectly on the spot and she might even get bullied and…this plan wasn’t going anywhere. It took her a lot of bravery, but she eventually stopped staring into space in order to look at Adrien. 

The poor guy was _panicking_ , looking like he was searching for words to somehow help the situation. No doubt words she couldn’t bear to hear yet, along the lines of ‘I’m flattered, but no.’ 

“Don’t worry, I’m doing my best to get over it,” she said before he had any chance to make her day even worse by being his kind, wonderful, well-meaning but ultimately destructive self.

“Well, apart from _that_ trainwreck,” Félix said and Marinette glared at him. “You didn’t yet mention who tried to get into your dreams. Please, continue.”

With how distracted she had been from finding out that _Adrien_ was _the cat_ —cue internal pterodactyl screeching—she had almost forgotten what they had been talking about in the first place.

“Right,” Adrien said, sobering back up as well. “When I waited for the person to return that night, she _did_ return. It was Lila.”

A dark look went over his face and Marinette couldn’t help but feel the dread inside her nearly physically. This piece of news was almost _worse_ than Adrien finding out about her crush! Well, rationally speaking it probably _was_ worse, but _details_!

“She tried it again night after night, arguing with my wards and whatnot. I even tried changing my door’s design completely to throw her off, but she eventually found it again. At the end of the day—or night, in this case—the only way to keep her out of my dreams is for me to stay out of my dreams as well.”

“You need rest too though!”

Adrien shrugged. “There’s no other way and I take naps during the day whenever I can.”

“How about a stronger barrier then?”

He made a face as if he had bitten into a lemon. “I’ve seen her get through stronger barriers than any I have ever imagined. I hate to admit it, but what she lacks in real life in potential, she more than makes up for as a dreamer. She’s _insanely_ good at it. It’s a wonder she hasn’t gotten past my door yet and I don’t want to risk finding out what happens if she does.”

Marinette was about to point out that she also hadn’t gotten past Félix’s door so far and that he probably should consider installing physical locks, but then he threw her a curious look that let the words die in her throat.

“Speaking of door guards, why did you choose Chat Noir as one, Marinette?”

That question again. At least she had an answer ready, even though she couldn’t help blushing a little and stammering her way through the explanation anyway.

“I-I trust him a lot. He’s very nice and he can fight very well too, even better than Ladybug in my opinion. So, yeah, there really wasn’t a better option for a door guard. He’s the perfect one.”

When Félix threw her a teasing smirk, she decided to kick him.

“Let’s get back to the interesting part: Lila’s dream abilities,” he said, not even acknowledging the kick—it had been a light one anyway.

“I don’t know how she does it,” Adrien continued—was she imagining the blush on his face?—casting a thoughtful glance out the window, “but she somehow _programs_ people in their dreams to act or say certain things as soon as they hear a code word. Something like extreme conditioning. I once followed her into Nino’s dream and when she noticed me, she started boasting about it. Lila calls it BPID.”

“Isn’t that a mental illness?” Marinette asked.

“Rossi definitely has _some_ form of mental illness, but BPD isn’t it,” Félix muttered.

“It’s just a term she came up with,” Adrien explained. “She said it means ‘behaviour-programming in dream’, not really the most creative name, but definitely fitting. It only works in the REM phase of dreaming and the dream door isn’t allowed to be in sight for it. At least that’s what she told me. She could have been lying though.”

“That explains why everyone is acting so off and goes along with her without questioning it,” Marinette said thoughtfully. “But isn’t it dumb of her to tell you all that?”

Adrien sadly shook his head. “Knowing about it doesn’t make you immune to it. If she’d catch me in my dream unaware, she’d be able to do the same to me. If anything, it makes me more paranoid and, in her words, ‘keeps me in my place.’”

“Looks like I’ll need to investigate how to deport an ambassador’s daughter,” Félix muttered while also getting up—the kettle was whistling.

“That wouldn’t solve the problem,” Adrien said with a shrug. 

“But if she’s gone, then she wouldn’t be able to say the code words anymore to make everyone act the way she programmed them to,” Marinette threw in.

“It doesn’t have to be _her_ who says it. Say, for example, she programs everyone to jump out a window when they hear ‘good morning’, then they’d do it as soon as anyone would say it to them.”

Marinette paled. Was it really possible to program people to do things that she really didn’t want to think in detail about right now, simply by making them respond to a very ordinary phrase? Heck, even if she’d know the code words, there was no way that she could keep any- and everyone from saying them. To think that Lila had so far _only_ used this power to gain popularity and make Marinette’s life hell was…worrying. Perhaps she didn’t realise the potential it had, or worse, she was saving up the worst for last. This, again, was something Marinette really didn’t want to think about right now. 

“Witch,” Félix muttered from the kitchen while preparing his tea and setting a timer on the stove for it. “I can’t even say that I doubt she’d go that far eventually.”

“I’m surprised that she never managed to get past your door Marinette,” Adrien then said. “Even before you became aware of the corridor.”

She was honestly surprised by that too. Maybe it had something to do with her Miraculous that made her dreams harder to get into by others—Tikki had been part of the magic that created the ability to dreamwalk in the first place after all. That was definitely a discussion they’d have to have with Duusu later.

“Yeah,” she laughed nervously, “my subconscious was probably very distrustful of her and kept strong wards up or something.”

In reality, she had no idea what her door’s securities had been before she had consciously implended her own security measures. Maybe she should have tested that out first, as they seemed fairly reliable.

“By the way,” Félix then said after rejoining them in the living room once more. “Did you hear anything else incriminating while following us around as a cat?”

Adrien avoided both of their gazes and bit his lip.

“I…I followed you into Father’s dream on Sunday. And, well, it makes sense now why you stole things from him at the party, you needed personal possessions for this. How did you come to suspect him in the first place though?” 

A mixture of guilt, dread, sorrow and anger flared up within her. She had been so set on the revelation that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, that she hadn’t even stopped to consider what this would mean for Adrien. First and foremost, she’d need to fight his father and win. When she won, then he’d have to be tried for what he had done, probably Nathalie as well for most likely having been Mayura. This would leave Adrien without any guardians and with his aunt and Félix as his only family.

“We…uh,” Marinette started and then cleared her throat. “So, when we were at the party on Sunday, we actually just wanted to figure out if your father was hiding more things that belonged to your mother and that now should belong to your aunt like the rings do. Somehow we ended up in his office and found a safe behind a painting.”

Adrien stared at her with wide eyes. “The Miraculous book!”

Oh, right. Adrien knew about the book. 

Marinette nodded. “ _And_ the Peacock Miraculous.”

Instantly, Adrien became white as a ghost. “A-are you sure? I mean, it could just be a pretty brooch, right? Normal jewellery?” His voice was squeaky and she could hear the slight edge of disbelieving hysteria in it.

Marinette cringed and nodded.

“It’s real, alright,” Félix said, inexplicably calm about the whole ordeal. “Weird deity and everything.”

“Duusu isn’t weird!” Marinette automatically protested. “She’s just…uh… _excitable_.” She’d leave it at that.

From his brief—or not so brief—time as the Snake holder, Adrien technically knew what a kwami was, so she wasn’t too worried about confusing him. Still, she didn’t think that talking about Duusu was the best idea right now.

“Have you told Ladybug and Chat Noir about father yet?” Adrien asked, giving her the perfect opportunity to change the topic.

“Ladybug knows,” Félix said before she could answer. To her relief, he also didn’t look at her when he said it—it was bad enough that Adrien knew of her crush now.

“T-that’s good. Will you tell Chat Noir as well?”

Marinette shrugged. “I guess Ladybug will tell him at the next opportunity she gets.” 

Which she either needed to call a patrol for, or catch him after the next Akuma attack. Whatever came first. In any case, she planned to do it within the next few days. Before she could think further about patrol schedules and Akuma patterns, Félix spoke up again.

“Let me get the tea and then we should recount the conversation from yesterday’s lunch with that background, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am starting to run out of my chapter buffer, but I'm determined to get them all out in time to keep up with the prompt month! As a result, the quality for the next few chapters might suffer as a result, so try to not have the highest of expectations ;w;


	22. Tattoo Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The convo continues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very loose prompt once more.

Marinette had followed him into the kitchen with a large paper bag that she had set down on the counter.

“Where do you have the plates?” She asked, to which Félix just pointed at the corner cabinet.

“What’s in the bag?” He asked while pulling the tea strainer out of the teapot and dumping the tea leaves into the trash.

“I brought some bakery goods from the rejected pile.” Marinette said while Félix washed the tea strainer and despite the noise of rushing water had no trouble hearing his cousin’s excited gasp.

“Rejected pile?” Félix asked at the same time that Adrien explained the same thing in glee. 

“Some baked goods turn out not so pretty or are a little too burned to sell them. They still taste good, but they’re just odd-looking,” she explained while arranging croissants, Danishes, macarons and other kinds of goods he couldn’t put a name to on one of his mother’s beloved rose-patterned plates.

“Ah, I see.”

“They’re delicious!” Adrien piped up from where he was still sitting on the sofa. “Do you have macarons too?”

“Yep,” Marinette replied. “No passionfruit ones though.”

“I accept all kinds of macarons!”

“Are you starved or something?” Félix meanwhile asked while he watched Marinette sneak a pink macaron into her purse—no doubt for Tikki.

“Generally? No. Of sweets? Always!”

With an almost overflowing plate of baked goods and a teapot of _Darjeeling First Flush_ , the two of them returned to the sofa. Félix took mercy on Marinette by sitting down next to his cousin instead so she could take the armchair. Adrien, while Félix poured himself a cup of tea, didn’t hesitate to take the sole chocolate croissant from the plate and started munching happily.

Marinette, meanwhile, wrung her hands nervously, looking back and forth between the two of them before eventually taking a deep breath and settling her gaze on Adrien.

“So, uh, I really don’t mean to be insensitive, but what will we do when…Hawkmoth is defeated? I mean, your father is the only parent you have left and…”

Adrien set the croissant down and bit his lip. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll stay with Aunt Amélie and Félix until I’m eighteen or emancipated. But then I’d have to move to London.”

Félix frowned at how crushed his cousin looked at the news. 

“This is a traumatising situation,” he therefore said. “It wouldn’t be good to keep you away from your support network, so I’d definitely talk to Mum about staying in Paris until summer at the very least.”

He hadn’t expected the sudden hug he received for it.

“Thank you Félix!”

“Uh…of course,” he said and somewhat awkwardly patted Adrien’s back while Marinette just smiled at them. 

“Would I be able to visit Paris afterwards?”

“Of course, you moron. The Eurostar only takes two and a half hours from London to Paris, so you could even make day trips.”

Adrien beamed, only for his smile to falter again. “I’m worried about what father said about Marinette yesterday though.”

“The bribing part?” Félix asked while the girl in question went pale as a sheet.

“The heist part. What if he tries to report her for it?!”

Before Félix had even the slightest chance to reassure both his cousin and Marinette that such an outcome was rather unlikely and therefore most probably wouldn’t happen, Marinette seemed to have reached her limit. Perhaps it was the sheer amount of new revelations that had been dropped on her that very day, or maybe even her apparent paranoia was just acting up again, but either way, panic had gripped her now.

“What if he barrs me from the fashion industry because of this?!”

“No worries,” Félix said calmly. “Even if he makes a move before Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat him, his word would become void as soon as he is revealed to be Hawkmoth, including any claims he might make about you.”

Marinette, as it seemed, didn’t even listen to him though and just kept catastrophising.

“I’m good at art,” she continued in a hasty pace, “so maybe I could keep myself overwater as an artist. I could become a tattoo artist. Maybe even open a flower shop on the side.” She let out a hysterical laugh. “Or I’ll take over my parents’ bakery even though I’m not nearly as good as them when it comes to baking and _mph_ –”

After rationality had so utterly failed him, Félix decided that stuffing a croissant into her mouth to forcefully shut her up was the best course of action.

“Instead of making unrealistic assumptions of an uncertain future, we should rather devise a plan on how to take Uncle down.”

Marinette, after chewing the bite of croissant, seemed to have calmed down a bit again.

“Right,” she said.

“We’d have to get him out of the house. The security systems in the mansion are absolutely insane and he’d have the advantage,” Adrien commented, looking unusually serious and calculating. 

Félix nodded thoughtfully. “Disgraceful what he has done to the place. I’ll see if mother and I can get him out somehow.”

Marinette sighed. “At the end of the day, it’s up to Ladybug and Chat Noir to deal with that, not us. Who we can deal with though is Lila. Any suggestions on what to do about her?”

“The easiest thing would be if everyone had strong enough barriers to stop her from entering their dreams,” Adrien said thoughtfully.

“We can’t just tell the entire class about the dreamwalking!” Marinette threw in.

“Of course not,” Adrien agreed. “That’d be too dangerous.”

While the two of them threw ideas back and forth and Marinette amusedly managed to converse without stuttering and blushing for once, Félix was deep in thought. They needed a way to keep Lila from ever entering the dream corridor again in the first place.

“We somehow have to keep her locked behind her own door or…another,” he thought out loud and trailed off.

There was only one door that came to mind, but was he willing to sacrifice it just to get rid of someone who wouldn’t be his problem anymore as soon as he’d move back to London in a few months? 

“That won’t work,” Adrien said. “We can’t lock her into her own dream and if we’d lock her in someone else’s dream, she’d just end up back behind her own door the next night.”

Félix nodded, thought it over once more, before eventually making the decision to, at the very least, share the information he had.

“You’re right, but only if the dream she’s trapped in _has_ a door.”

As predicted, Marinette and Adrien looked at him quizzically.

“There is one specific kind of dream that she wouldn’t be able to get out of and if we manage to trap her in there, then she’ll be trapped for good. Forever.” 

“What kind of dream door are you talking about? And who would it belong to?” Adrien asked.

Félix stared at his cousin seriously. “A dead person’s dream.”

“You have a nice room,” Marinette said, echoing his identical compliment from the day prior. 

Unlike her room, however, his was barely anything. His mother and him only planned to live in Paris for a couple of months, so most of their possessions had stayed at their estate in England. For Félix, that meant bringing the bare minimum to prevent clutter, which made for a quite minimalistic result.

He rolled his eyes. “Odd. I would have expected you to find it lacking.”

Marinette shrugged as he closed the door behind them. “It fits you.”

They had left Adrien behind in the living room after realising that he was bordering on delusional with his lack of sleep. It had been surprisingly easy to convince him to take a nap on the sofa and he had been out like a light almost instantly. In order to not disturb him and to keep talking, a change of location had been required.

“Please, take a seat,” he said and waved to the desk chair while he himself decided to sit down on the edge of his bed. Before she could say anything, he continued. “You’re overwhelmed.”

Marinette opened her mouth as if to argue, but then closed it again, a grim bitterness to her all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I guess I am. It’s stupid. During Akuma attacks I’m able to handle a million and one things and now that it’s just two problems, it’s suddenly too much? I don’t get it.”

Félix regarded her curiously while he thought of the most tactful words how to put this. Her posture was slumped in a form of exhaustion that was rather mental than physical—indicated by the dullness of her eyes—but there still was a tenseness to it that never left, as if she was on constant high alert. Her eyes focused on her writhing hands—sporadic nails digging into skin—but occasionally darted around to random corners of the room.

“I have a theory,” he eventually said, making her look up. “It is entirely based on assumptions though, so feel free to correct me when I’m off. From what I gather, the situation with Lila has been going on for _months_ , grating on you ever since and causing you distress over a long period of time. Just like this conflict, the war against Hawkmoth has been going on for even longer and it has no doubt cost you a lot of things.”

Marinette nodded.

“Akumas, on the other hand, are short-lived. They appear seemingly out of nowhere and are usually dealt with in a span of a few hours. You don’t lose sleep over thinking they’ll attack you again.”

She flinched.

“Am I wrong?”

“Well…let’s say there are exceptions. Some were very traumatising and if I don’t keep things together, they might actually happen and then destroy the world–” 

“Wait, _actually happen?_ You mean those are merely hypothetical?”

She shook her head. “Time travel. I saw a future where…” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Everything was gone,” she eventually ended quietly. “And it was partly my fault somehow.”

Judging by the shiver that went over her entire body and Tikki suddenly flying out of her purse to comfort her, it must have been unimaginably horrible. Félix decided not to dwell on it.

“Which is yet another burden you carry around,” he said, his voice deliberately turning soft, in what he hoped to be a soothing tone, for the sensitive topic. “I think the differences are the stakes and while you want things to change, you might also fear it in some way. Lots of people fear uncertainties.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“The point is that it’s completely natural to feel overwhelmed about suddenly making tremendous progress on two fronts at once. I think that you might have gotten too used to carrying the burden of those fights all on your own. In Akuma fights you have your partner, which makes it easier for you, but even with him you said that Hawkmoth might outmatch you. No one expects you to come up with a solution right away.”

“They do though,” Marinette said and slumped further. “It’s always ‘Ladybug will save us’ and ‘Ladybug will think of something’ to the point where people don’t even evacuate Akuma attack sites anymore because ‘Ladybug will fix everything anyway.’ When no one else thinks for themselves anymore because they all look to _me_ for a solution…you’re right, I’m overwhelmed. And I’m just _fifteen!_ I can’t be expected to come up with perfect plans all the time…and to _be_ perfect!”

Félix didn’t quite know what to say to that. It was true that Paris, and sometimes even the whole world, needed Ladybug to right things after an Akuma attack, so she couldn’t be compromised in a fight. To start some sort of hero worship because of it though was…almost a little creepy if he was being honest.

“Have you told Chat Noir and the press that before?”

Marinette nodded. “Chat understands it to a degree, but he has these self-sacrificial tendencies so I don’t know how well he _really_ understands. The press though…”

“Let me guess: they either ignore it or think you’re being humble?”

“Pretty much.”

“As frustrating as it is, you just can’t reach some people with rationality. Especially not when people are set in their views. Or, how Claude would put it: _You can’t cure stupid._ ”

Marinette snorted, the first genuinely happy noise he had heard from her that day.

“True, but I also don’t want everyone to live in constant fear.”

Félix shrugged. “It’s a delicate balance and some margin of fear is even healthy in these kinds of situations. As for a short-term and _perfect_ solution though? There isn’t one. Honestly, all of us are sleep-deprived at the moment, not just Adrien. I suggest you get a full night’s sleep and put those worries to rest for now. Things will still be the same tomorrow.”

“You don’t know that. What if Hawkmoth makes another attempt with the scarlet butterflies or what if Lila programs someone to do something really horrible?! They have to be stopped as soon as possible!”

“Valid worries, but you won’t achieve anything like this. There are two separate to do lists for those two fights right now and the first points should be the following: Talk to Chat Noir about choosing and training a new temporary holder or even several for the Hawkmoth fight. When it comes to Lila, talk to Duusu and ask her if it’s possible to lock her in her own dream.”

Marinette nodded. “Those sound reasonable,” she said before she paused. “But I thought you knew a kind of dream we could lock Lila into? If you already have a plan, then why ask Duusu about it?”

Félix looked away. “I would prefer it if it was a last resort. That plan requires somewhat of a sacrifice on my part and while it is an option, I still need to consider if I’m willing to make it.”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, when you said that it’s a _dead_ person’s dream…don’t tell me you meant your father! Why would you even suggest that then?! We can’t lock Lila into it! I mean…it’s…it’s like a memory of him, right?”

“More like a grave, but a remembrance anyways. In the end, if Duusu doesn’t know an alternate solution, this is my decision.”

By the grim look Tikki was throwing him though, he had little hope that there was an alternative at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This girl _desperately_ needs a break!


	23. Curses and Swears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some quality LadyNoir content in this Felinette piece because I'm here for loving _all_ the dynamics!  
>  ~~No worries, second half is Felinette! :D~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone becomes confused by the identitcally written, yet italicized word: the _gun_ I am refering to is a staff that is used in Chinese martial arts. Visit [this Wikipedia article](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gun_\(staff\)) to find out more about it if you're interested. And for the record: my only knowledge is from this article as well, so if anyone knows better then feel free to correct me! c:

She had rarely been gladder about managing to get a full night’s sleep than she was today. Nimble as ever, she dodged another hit from the Akuma and pulled Chat Noir out of the way too while she was at it. His usually quick reflexes were somewhat sluggish, which suggested that she was probably the only one of the two of them that had experienced the luxury of rest. Well, not that this was anything new. Her partner had complained often enough about how busy he had been lately which had resulted in midnight homework sessions and other things that robbed him of precious sleep. She really didn’t envy him for it one bit. At least luck was on her side once more—she really didn’t want to know what would have happened if she had gone into the battle sleep-deprived as well.

After about an hour, the butterfly was finally purified, but before Ladybug could breathe a sigh of relief, the Miraculous-related revelations of the last few days hit her like a speeding train once more. Before Chat Noir could bolt away, she grabbed his arm.

“Go recharge and meet me on _the_ rooftop,” she said, to which Chat Noir only gave a disoriented blink before realisation settled in his eyes and he nodded. 

That was how she came to pace on the godforsaken rooftop that was partially at fault for revealing her identity to Félix. It had been the first place she had thought of since it was quite nondescript and ordinary and still a place both of them knew how to get to without any further explanation. And well, she _had_ been on a time crunch ten minutes ago.

The sheer weight of feelings, memories, reflexes, adrenaline and _everything else_ from this particular Akuma attack still coursed through her whole body, making her muscles twitch and filling her with paranoia. It usually took the good part of an hour to calm down completely from battles, sometimes even two or three. In one case it had taken her _days,_ but that had been after Timebreaker, when she had lost Chat Noir for the very first time. She had woken up in cold sweat every night and day, her mind trapped in that moment where her partner had faded from existence in her very arms. 

Not for the first time she asked herself if Master Fu had truly been aware of what an enormous burden he had put on the shoulders of two young teenagers. She wasn’t even sure if he had known of the massive burden he had put on her alone by making her the new Guardian _on top of_ being Ladybug. If his training had been lacking, then hers was basically non-existent, and unlike Master Fu, she was a fighter first and foremost. He had run and hidden away all his life while she was on the forefront of a magical war, with no choice but to leave the Miracle Box behind in her room and just hoping— _praying_ —that her luck was good enough to keep it hidden until she’d safely return. She might be insightful and clever enough to be a Guardian, but her life just wasn’t suited for the role as long as she was an urgent necessity in _every single fight._

It had been about a month now, but it felt like a lifetime since Miracle Queen. She was walking on eggshells, paranoid of making even the slightest of mistakes, terrified of the what ifs that haunted her nightmares. Speaking of nightmares, the image of ice-blue eyes behind a white mask haunted her and was the reason why she hadn’t reached out to her partner for help yet. Before Bunnyx had plucked her out of this timeline so she could fix a terrifying future, she wouldn’t have thought twice about going to her partner for help, maybe even revealing their identities at this point. Alas, until she could know for sure _what exactly_ had caused him to become akumatised in that alternate timeline, she couldn’t risk him getting closer to her than he already was. Keeping him at arm’s length felt wrong, especially now when she so desperately needed his support but had to instead reach out to another, a _civilian_ even. She was the Guardian, though, and as such, she had to do what was necessary. That Bunnyx hadn’t shown up again was probably a good sign at this point.

Ladybug heard him before she saw him.

It wasn’t because she was paying very close attention—on the contrary, she was actually rather distracted by her spiralling thoughts—or because she was so attuned to every noise and movement of his. No, the reason was as hilarious as it was worrying: Chat Noir faceplanted on the roof right before her feet and she couldn’t stop her pacing in time to avoid him.

A startled squeak had probably left her as she fell. That, or the pigeons had learned how to imitate high-pitched noises of distress. As the two of them lay on the roof, her half on top of him and blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face, Ladybug asked herself which string of events had led her to this exact moment. She was a mess. Then again, both of them were messes in their own ways. 

“You okay?” She asked, with the initial reply being a disoriented, tired grumble.

“I knew you’d fall for me someday, m’lady,” Chat Noir said and threw her a smirk that only half-reached his tired eyes.

“One out of ten, Chaton. You used that one last week already.” 

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and got off him so he could sit up. Like two warriors—perhaps they could actually be called that by now—they sat across from each other, her with a nervous smile, him with a curiosity that even shone through his exhaustion.

“So, uh…you remember Félix, right?”

Instead of narrowing his eyes like she had expected him to, Chat Noir just sighed. 

“Yeah, I remember the English gremlin.”

She had trouble suppressing a snort of laughter and made a mental note to call Félix that one of these days when it seemed appropriate.

“He moved to Paris and while I’m not exactly sure _how_ , he and Marinette recovered the Peacock Miraculous,” she said and opened her yo-yo to pull the very artefact out of it.

Without even a second of hesitation she handed it over for Chat Noir to inspect, knowing how rarely he had been able to touch other Miraculouses before and how sceptical Master Fu had always been of his involvement in Guardian duties. She might not be able to reveal her identity to him just yet, but she could at least do this much.

“It’s the real deal,” he whispered after a moment, his eyes filled with wonder and never left the brooch as he brushed his fingers over the details.

Another moment of awed silence passed before he eventually tore his gaze away and handed her the Miraculous back.

“That means we won’t have to worry about Mayura anymore,” he said, the relief written clear as day across his face, but something else still lingered behind it.

They were experts at reading each other, which was extremely useful in fights where split-second decisions needed to be relied through a simple glance alone. With time on their hands though and the ability to look even more closely, there was little that escaped them. That was how Ladybug knew that he was anticipating something, bracing himself for bad news, really, and she got the feeling that perhaps her partner already knew more than she thought he did. Or, equally likely, he had noticed _her_ nervousness and had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since she had told him to meet up on the rooftop. She decided to not keep him in suspense any longer.

“It also means that this puts both the grimoire _and_ the Peacock Miraculous in Gabriel Agreste’s possession. And I know we already suspected him and got nothing out of it, but maybe we should have looked closer. It’s a little complicated and I don’t understand it myself yet, Tikki and Duusu just explained it to me–” she tapped the Miraculous, “–but through a past wish it’s possible to visit other peoples’ dreams. Marinette and Félix did that with Gabriel Agreste’s dream after finding the Peacock Miraculous and he unwittingly confirmed his identity to them and what he wants our Miraculouses for.” 

Chat Noir sighed deeply. “I wonder how many dreamwalkers there actually are in Paris.”

The record scratch in her head was so loud that she half-expected Chat Noir to hear it too.

“Wait, you _know_ about this?! Why did you never say anything?!”

Her exclamation received a guilty grin and a shrug. 

“It never came up. Besides, I haven’t thought about it a lot until just recently.”

_Recently…_

“So _that’s_ why you’ve been so exhausted lately! Chat, you know you can secure your dream door, right? Your Miraculous provides some form of extra protection too, especially since Plagg was part of the wish.”

His reply was a somewhat helpless shrug. “It’s complicated.”

When was it ever not? As much as she would’ve loved to focus on Chat Noir’s dream problems instead now, she knew they were both on a tight schedule and people would start getting suspicious if they didn’t get back to their civilian lives soon. 

_Dream talk later, superhero business now._

With her original plans of explaining the mechanics of dreamwalking to Chat Noir metaphorically scattered to the wind, Ladybug needed a moment to reorient herself. She had played this through in her head _many_ times these past few days and in none of those daydreams had _this_ happened. Quick-thinking in battles was one thing, but social situations were something else completely. And while she was loath to admit it, Félix was right, and she _was_ an absolute catastrophe when put on the spot.

“So…uh…great!” She stammered, cringing at how obviously rattled she was.

“We know who Hawkmoth is now. How do we fight him and when?”

Like so often, Chat Noir caught her whenever she fell, metaphorically and physically. A fact she’d always be thankful for and just another sign at how seamless their partnership had become.

“I thought about bringing in new holders since the old ones are all compromised. But I didn’t want to make a decision without asking you first. So, what do you think? Who should we pick?”

His eyes grew wide as saucers. 

“You…you really want to ask _me_ for _my_ input?”

He sounded small all of a sudden, very far away from his usual bravado and confidence. She knew this vulnerability of his well and it was just another reason why this conversation was so very important. They didn’t talk about their personal lives a lot out of fear of letting identifying details slip, but from small mentions here and there as well as moods she had surmised that her partner didn’t have the best home life. How often was his input valued, or even _wanted_ at all? One of the many things she didn’t like to think about too often but that nevertheless nagged her from the back of her mind time and time again.

Ladybug nodded and threw him a smile. “Of course. You and me against the world, remember?”

Was she imagining it or did his eyes start to shimmer with unshed tears? Nevertheless, the answering smile he threw her might be smaller than his full Cheshire-grins, but it was no less blinding from sheer happiness. Once again she internally sighed in relief, happy to have made the right choice.

“I really get to choose?” He asked, as if she’d still change her mind.

“Yes, Chaton. But let’s brainstorm first before we make a decision. Who comes to mind when you think of a competent Miraculous holder?”

His eyes lit up instantly.

“Marinette!”

_And there goes my luck._

Something in her expression or body language must have given her displeasure away, because Chat Noir instantly slumped and looked at her with guilty yet still determined kitten eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked before she had even had a chance to comment. 

She didn’t want to lie to him if she didn’t absolutely have to, so she’d milk the half-truths for as long they’d work.

“I’m sorry. I know you like her and I agree that she’d be a good holder, but there’s just way too much on her plate right now to put even _more_ on it. We’ll have to train the new holder, or holder _s_ , before we can take them with us to fight Hawkmoth. Even when it’s just for a short time, Marinette is spread thin enough as it is and I don’t think it’s fair to add to that.”

Her partner stared at the ground guiltily. “You’re right. I didn’t consider that.”

Ladybug shifted closer to him to lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry, Chat. Under other circumstances she really would have been a good choice.”

He nodded, pressing himself marginally closer to where her hand touched him, before falling into a pensive silence. She did the same. Thoughts of her classmates flitted through her head, of the ones who hadn’t been Miraculous holders before and who would fit to some of the Zodiac Miraculouses she hadn’t given out yet. It was frustrating how she couldn’t choose any of them while Lila could enter their dreams and possibly figure out their secret identities. On that front, she was still majorly worried about Alix. She hadn’t even gotten her Miraculous yet but knew that she would someday. Ladybug was almost tempted to just give it to her—with the power of time on their hands the fight would be _much_ easier than otherwise—but she couldn’t just throw caution to the wind, especially not as the Guardian. 

“How about Marinette’s parents?” Chat eventually said. “Her father was a very strong Akuma so just think about what he could do with a Miraculous!”

_Tempting. Very tempting._

Her parents weren’t under Lila’s influence as far as she knew so the liar wouldn’t have any reason to visit their dreams—though that wasn’t a guarantee that she wouldn’t. 

“Not bad,” she said thoughtfully to give Chat Noir at least _some_ sort of feedback while she was already absorbed in _planning mode_.

“Right?! Tom is very protective, so the turtle might fit him.”

She nodded, absentmindedly agreeing. For her mother, she’d have to choose a Miraculous that would work well with her wushu skills, maybe even give her a _gun_ or some other large staff. Only the Black Cat Miraculous came to mind there though, perhaps even the Fox—though the flute was rather the length of a _bang_ rather than a _gun_ —and, distantly, the Dragon, even though the sword hardly counted as a staff and was rather a _jian_. Then again… 

“What powers do we actually need?”

Chat Noir looked up at the cloudy sky, thoughtful once more. “It might be good to have the Dragon active with someone who’d be good at sword fighting since Hawkmoth has a rapier. Kagami would have been perfect for that,” he sighed disappointingly. “Maybe the Bee too? One paralised Hawkmoth and the whole thing is over.”

Ladybug shuddered at the thought of the Bee and how royally screwed they had all been the last time it had had a holder. Pollen was still terribly silent about the whole thing.

“We’d need to lure Hawkmoth out of the mansion,” Ladybug said. “Remember Simon Says? He has a crazy security system and I’d feel better if he doesn’t have that trump card.”

Chat Noir nodded grimly. “Any idea how we can do that?”

“The Fox? An illusion of something that would infuriate or tempt him outside and once he’s out of the house, the Fox holder would need to somehow activate the security system to lock Gabriel out.”

“They’d need to be very tricky and smart to do that. From what I remember, it activates with touch, so they’d need to be able to get _and_ replicate Gabriel Agreste’s fingerprints. Do you already have someone in mind?”

She smirked. “There’s one tricky bastard that fits the bill, but you won’t like it.”

“Let me guess: Félix?”

He really sounded less than impressed.

Ladybug cringed. “I know he was…uh…more than just horrible a month ago and I’m not saying you have to forgive him for it. I haven’t forgiven him for that either. He found out Hawkmoth’s identity though and already gave _one_ Miraculous back. Besides, Marinette personally vouched for him and Duusu seems to like him too.”

Chat Noir sighed. “Sounds like you’ve already made your decision.”

She shrugged. “It’s still up to you. If you’re against it, we can find another suitable holder. I’m sure between the two of us we’ll be able to think of _someone_.”

They hadn’t.

Even the suggestions of Nathaniel or Adrien’s bodyguard hadn’t sounded as promising as Félix had. There was only one flaw in her plan: besides saying that she’d talk to Chat Noir about it, she hadn’t exactly clued Félix in on the actual possibility of him becoming a holder. His reaction, when she landed on his window sill that evening, was therefore not much of a surprise.

“You have _got_ to be bloody _kidding_ me,” he said when Ladybug presented him with the box that contained the Fox Miraculous.

“Well, I _was_ considering the Peacock Miraculous, since you’re already acquainted with Duusu, but Marinette pointed out that emotions and you don’t really go hand in hand. So, I thought illusions would be more fitting, with you being a magician and all,” she said with a wink.

He threw her the most deadpan look she had ever seen on his face. Seeing how she was talking about _Félix,_ that said something.

“Where did you leave your cat by the way?”

Ladybug sighed. “Home, hopefully. He was even more exhausted than Adrien was yesterday. Now, are you gonna let me in or do you want to rack up your mum’s power bill for the month?”

Félix stepped aside, allowing her to jump into the room and close the window behind her. She rubbed her arms; it really _was_ getting cold. Only less than a month until the cold of winter would truly begin and inevitably slow down her movements. Just thinking about it reminded her of the many deadlines again and that it would be great if they could defeat Hawkmoth before her hibernation mode kicked in.

“So, I’ve run into a problem today,” she started, which prompted Félix to arch an eyebrow and throw her a small, teasing grin.

“Just one?” he asked, echoing something she had said on Tuesday night. She decided to ignore it.

“When Chat and I went over potential holders, I realised that I couldn’t pick most people I’d want to pick because they’re in my class. It would be too risky with Lila still wandering into their dreams.”

Félix nodded, serious once more. “That _is_ indeed a problem. Is that why you chose _me_?”

“Not exactly, though that’s definitely a bonus. You’re the only one I know who can pick locks, play a convincing role _and_ who has more than enough motivation to bring Gabriel down, maybe even get some form of revenge on him if you want to look at it like that.”

“Intriguing,” Félix said thoughtfully. “Please, do continue.”

Ladybug held out the small Miraculous box again. “Like I said, the Miraculous of Illusion would fit you. Only someone who knows how to use illusions and tricks to their advantage can really use it well and you were the first that came to mind there.”

At first, she had considered giving it to her mother instead so that she’d have a staff-like weapon to fight with and to give him the Bee—his personality would definitely match well with Pollen’s. After going over a list of pros and cons, however, it had become clear that it was way more advantageous to give Félix the Fox, as one of his biggest strengths lay in trickery and illusions to begin with. That, and he was most familiar with the layout of the mansion and the behaviour patterns of its habitants, which would make him perfect for the, still rough, role she was crafting in her battle plan for him.

“And Chat Noir really had nothing to say to that particular decision?” 

She really couldn’t blame him for being skeptical. After all, she herself wasn’t even sure if this was really a good idea. Despite talking it over with Tikki, Wayzz, Duusu, Pollen and Trixx, she still had that little speck of doubt in the back of her mind. The battle where Félix had betrayed her for his own agenda would probably always leave a dull ache inside her, but she also knew that he was improving and actively trying to be better. Besides, the last time she had made a decision with her heart instead of listening to her instincts and a good dose of rationality, it had hurt someone she loved. Perhaps, once all of it was over, she could ask Adrien if he had managed to see a therapist about having to watch her die over twenty five thousand times—and if yes, if he could give recommendations. 

“He couldn’t think of an alternative for the Fox either. At least not one that isn’t compromised from being a past holder or under Lila’s influence,” Ladybug said. “You can object, of course, this is not obligatory.”

Félix smirked. “And pass up on the chance to even the scores between me and Uncle before he goes to jail? You know me better than that, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” he said and finally took the box.

She returned his grin, hoping and praying to any benignant deity out there that she hadn’t just made a terrible mistake and that she could really trust him with a Miraculous after all.

“Well, as for the other holders, we still have the Lila problem to deal with. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t visit their dreams, but we can’t guarantee it.”

“So, what I’m hearing here is that we need to deal with Rossi before we deal with Hawkmoth,” Félix said and then opened the box.

She didn’t quite manage to suppress the fit of giggles when he almost fell backwards on his bed at the usual sudden glow in which the kwami appeared. Judging by their grin, Trixx was equally as amused by it as her.

“ _Bloody hell!_ Warn me next time!”

Ladybug grinned. “Regard it as payback. The first of many.”

He ran a hand over his face and grumbled something in English that she didn’t quite catch—probably another curse and something that sounded like ‘fair.’

“An interesting kit,” Trixx commented, still contently floating in the same spot. “Definitely more jumpy than the last one, but at the same time more composed too.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Félix asked, exasperated.

“That you probably won’t flirt with Chat and invent a secret handshake with him upon first meeting him.”

She burst out laughing at his perplexed look.

“My kit sure was a feisty one,” Trixx said with a somewhat bittersweet grin.

Ladybug scratched them behind an ear. “No worries, Trixx, we’ll get her out of Lila’s control soon.”

“Alright, to summarize these past five minutes briefly: You broke into my bedroom–” 

“You let me in.”

“– _through my window_ , with a Miraculous and then stated the problem about holders and Lila. Not that I don’t appreciate the foresight of asking me if I want to become a holder in the first place, but what is your main objective here?”

“Well, I thought you could take the Miraculous out for a little test run. We _did_ talk about _training_ the new holders the other day, didn’t we?” 

“You’re kidding.”

She stared at him, letting the silence stretch out so that it was answer enough.

“You’re not kidding,” he concluded and looked at the Fox Miraculous. “Are you aware that it’s late and that we have school tomorrow?”

“It’s only _eight_. What are you, sixty?”

“Judging by your less than impeccable attendance record, especially for the first period classes, I resolve to remain sceptical about your advice on the matter of bedtime.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Do you want to jump around during the day where everyone can see you and where we both will have more trouble slipping away from our daily lives?”

Félix sighed. “That’s a solid argument, I suppose. Though I want to be home in two hours at the very most!”

“Spoilsport,” she pouted.

While she should have fully expected it, Ladybug was still a little surprised by Félix cursing bloody murder for ten solid minutes about the ability to jump unnaturally high. That had swiftly developed into an argument between them about how he was _not_ , in fact, afraid of heights, but that it was _basic survival instincts_ to not jump off high places. He _also_ argued that this had _nothing at all_ to do with _l'appel du vide_ as long as he was aware that nothing harmful would actually happen to him.

In short: He was doing an awful lot of rationalising for someone who claimed to be a very put-together individual.

“Got used to it yet?” She asked with a teasing grin when he landed next to her on a particularly high rooftop that overlooked the _Champs-Élysées_. 

He sent her a glare.

“Oh, _relax!_ It’s just for a week or two, depending on how long you’ll need to get acquainted with the Miraculous.”

“About that: Do you plan to actually chase Hawkmoth across half of Paris?”

Ladybug shook her head. “No, not if I can prevent it.”

“Why the bloody hell are you dragging me along across rooftops then?”

“There’s a difference between the way you’re used to moving around and the way a Miraculous makes you move. You’ll need to be attuned to it for the best results. The few times I switched Miraculous, it was always different than when I’d use the Ladybug Miraculous. I even used the Fox once, so I know what it demands.”

Félix sighed and then made a conceding sound before he decided to change the topic. “Wouldn’t it be better to try out illusions for practice?”

She shrugged. “Later. For now, just try to figure out what the Fox wants of you.”

“What it _wants_ of me?”

“Yep, every Miraculous is bound to a power and works best with certain personality patterns. Tikki wants me to be calculating and rational, because Ladybugs are usually strategists. What does Trixx want from you?”

Ladybug regarded him while he was lost in thought, trying to figure out what she meant. It was somewhat odd after Volpina, Rena Rouge and her own brief time with the Fox Miraculous, to see a holder that _wasn’t_ cloaked in orange. Well, she supposed black foxes _did_ exist—she had actually looked up the fox rescue Allen had recommended her and they had a few—but the black-silver suit, together with the black fox ears within the blond hair and green slitted eyes, made him look eerily similar to her partner from the corner of her eye. She hoped Chat Noir wouldn’t have one of his jealousy fits once he’d see Félix like this.

“Trickery and deception,” he said at last, looking at her with a slight head tilt she had never seen from him before—it was adorable and she had to suppress a squealed ‘aww’ at the sight. 

“I think a little mischief is part of it too actually, but yes, trickery and deception fit well,” she said and scrunched her nose at the words. “Though they do sure _sound_ bad.”

Félix shrugged. “Destruction sounds bad too, doesn’t it?”

She smiled, relieved at the reminder. “You’re right. I’m just overthinking things.”

“You’re still as overwhelmed as yesterday,” he said and crossed his arms.

“Well, it doesn’t go away that easily! But it’s a little better now that I have _one_ holder situation taken care of and a rough plan about Lila.”

“By the way, what did Duusu say about locking her away in a dream?”

Ladybug hesitated, not sure how to answer. Alas, her silence seemed like it was answer enough to him.

“She can’t, right?”

“Not in this case, no. Duusu can’t lock doors for the people those doors belong to, only from others trying to enter. She technically could lock our classmates’ doors for Lila, but since they’re not people who even know of her existence, her powers might not be strong enough to make it work.”

“But she’s a _goddess_ , isn’t she?”

“Yes, the goddess of _emotion_. When there are no emotions towards her or towards the matter of dreams from our classmates, she has nothing to work with.”

Félix just nodded, grim understanding reflecting in the vulpine eyes, and stared at the brightly lit _Champs-Élysées_. She turned towards it too and neither of them said anything for a while. It was October, which meant that very soon the entirety of Paris would start decorating for Christmas, making the city of lights even more dazzling and twinkling at every corner. She loved that time of year.

“You were right,” Félix said after a few minutes and she turned to him again.

“Probably. With what though?”

An amused grin ghosted over his face. “Paris really has _something_ to it at night. The real deal is even better than the dream.”

“Maybe because it’s real. I found that dreams are a little too perfect and fantastical sometimes. They’re pretty, yes, but you live and breathe here and now,” she said and then blushed. “Sorry, that probably sounded stupid. I’m just rambling.”

“I don’t mind,” Félix said, his eyes still on the _Arc de Triomphe_. “You’re right, after all. It’s best to let go of dreams when you have the ability to enjoy the real world instead.”

Ladybug didn’t know if he was talking about his father’s dream or was just pondering the nature of dreams and reality in general, but she still saw how he came to a decision at this moment while the Parisian lights reflected in his eyes like stars. 

She hummed quietly in agreement and turned her gaze back to _her city_ again. It wouldn’t have to cry out for its final salvation for much longer now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people are dog or cat people and _I_ am a fox person. I couldn't resist, especially since it fit so well! 🦊


	24. Huntress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to go down! c:

The night of retribution would soon be upon Lila Rossi, even though she didn’t know that yet. Blissfully ignorant, she peacocked around with her falsehoods, rejoicing in the attention from people who only gave her the time of day because they had been brainwashed to. Félix watched all of it through a pair of binoculars from Marinette’s balcony, studying Lila’s schemes more than ever before, while Marinette was mindlessly knitting in the lounge chair—she had claimed it to be relaxing.

Originally, they had both been in her room, making plans for tonight, but then Adrien had texted them about a photoshoot in the park and how Lila had invited basically the entire class. It was a fortunate coincidence that the park Adrien had spoken of was directly by the Dupain-Cheng residence, which meant they hadn’t had to move far. The addition of winter jackets had still been needed, though.

“What are you trying to see that we don’t know already?” Marinette asked after what was probably about ten minutes of comfortable silence.

“Just verifying some connections,” Félix said, briefly concentrating on Lila’s current interaction with Kim before continuing. “The people that are most reluctant are the ones she’ll have to manipulate much more, which raises the chance that she’ll go into their dreams tonight. Meanwhile, the gullible ones are less likely candidates for her manipulation.”

The conversation came to an end as Lila turned around to the next sheep instead, leaving Kim grinning from whatever she had told him.

_Gullible._

Marinette hummed, sounding much calmer than he had expected her to be, and didn’t once pause knitting.

“Are you listening?” He asked.

“Candidate probability, yeah, I got that,” she said. “I’m just trying to push my nerves away right now and enjoy the calm before the storm, I guess. Besides, at this point I’m just used to stakeouts.”

“You did a lot of them?”

“Too many to count, especially concerning Akumas. Some of the time, traps were involved too. Made me feel like a huntress or something,” she snorted. 

“A huntress with knitting needles. I wonder what Paris would think if they knew that their heroine was knitting scarves in her free time,” Félix chuckled. “What are you making this one for anyway?”

“I liked the yarn and thought it would look nice as a scarf. That’s pretty much it.”

“That seems a little unprescient coming from you, Miss Perfectionist. No plans or ulterior motives attached to it at all?”

Marinette kept quiet for a few seconds, and judging by the frustrated sounds was fighting with a stubborn loop. 

“It’s nice to just do things for me sometimes, without having to think about being productive,” she said eventually.

“Ah, so that’s why it’s relaxing to you.”

Lila moved on from Rose and Juleka, probably having told them something about saving puppies or meeting exotic royalty—they seemed to like those stories most.

_Gullible._

The ones he had so far rated as the least gullible were Alix, Alya, Nino, Nathaniel, and Max. 

“Do you know how to knit?” Marinette asked, the clicks of the knitting needles unremitting.

“No. The skill has never seemed advantageous, so it never came up in my studies.”

“It’s quite easy, really. I even managed to teach Chat how to do it,” she said and when he turned around with an arched eyebrow saw her faintly smile, her eyes still trained on her knitting.

“How exactly did that come up? Were you out of things to do on a stakeout and just decided to bring yarn and knitting needles along?”

She rolled her eyes. 

“I already told you how he visits me for leftover pastries some nights, right?”

“Frankly, I thought this to be a cover story after learning of your identity,” he said, continuing his impromptu stakeout.

“Nope, he really does that. We talk about all sorts of things and, around this time last year, the topic of knitting just came up. The next night he visited, he came here with beginner knitting needles, a ball of red yarn, almost in tears because he didn’t manage to cast on properly, no matter how many YouTube tutorials he watched. So, I taught him.”

“Unbelievable. Now _both_ of the main superheroes are knitting in their free time.”

“Do you have anything against knitting?” Marinette asked, her voice taking on an annoyed edge.

“No, not at all. It’s just stereotypically connected to innocent little grandmas, not to monster-fighting superheroes. The irony is amusing.”

She snorted. “I guess it is a little. You want to join our knitting club? Lessons are free.”

“I might take you up on that, but only under one condition.” He put the binoculars down to turn around to her. “We defeat Lila and Hawkmoth first.”

The grin on her face bordered on a smirk. “Deal.”

“Daddy look! I'm doing hopscotch!” Félix exclaimed as he hopped from stone to stone, most of them covered in puddles, like natural, miniature water-filled bowls.

“Careful, Félix! The stones are slippery,” his father shouted, indeed only a moment before Félix’s foot slipped.

Strong arms caught him before he could tumble off the edge into the sea, and he cried, as four-year-olds tend to do when scared. This was about as much as he himself remembered of the vacation, the rest was blurry, non-existent, or just mere glimpses of the car ride and hotel.

Félix let the dream fade and instead looked at the lantern-lit antique door. Dreams weren’t illusions. They were emotions, memories and imagination, making them as real as anything in his head was. That was all that mattered. He didn’t need to visit his father’s dream of the Giant’s Causeway to remember it, his father, or even his father’s last moments. Those things would always stay with him and he could recall them whenever he wanted. His father’s dream, on the other hand, would stay the same, unchanging, frozen in place with nothing new to give him. Claude was absolutely right with his belief that it halted his progress of recovery, keeping him in place. There was nothing new to gain from it, just like how he didn’t gain anything from visiting his father’s physical grave, while what he _needed_ to do was to move forward. That still didn’t mean that the thought of letting go didn’t hurt.

He unlocked his door and took a deep breath. Silence was the corridor’s default state, but tonight, most of all, it was unnerving. Félix looked around, saw no one, and closed the door back behind him. This would be it. As prepared for battle as he could possibly be in a dream—which meant having various objects from his classmates that Marinette had given him secured on his person while he slept—he took a step that ominously echoed through the endless corridor. Absentmindedly he hoped that his mother wouldn’t have a reason to go into his room and see him with a pink heart hair clip, a book bound around his waist, as well as several other questionable _accessoires_ that didn’t belong on a sleeping person. 

“Psst, Félix.”

He turned around. The voice had come from the tree.

Warily, he walked over and saw a tense black feline clinging to one of the lower branches. Adrien—if it really was him, one could never be sure in this place—looked ready to jump and claw someone’s eyes out at the slightest provocation or command. It was a mixture of scared and protective—an interesting state for his cousin to be in and Félix couldn’t claim to have ever seen him like this.

“Are you really you?”

Adrien’s posture momentarily eased and he looked up in thought.

“Yarn ball,” he eventually said and then tilted his head. “Why _that_ password?”

Félix waved it off. “Insider. Since you said it in the first place, I suspect that Rossi went into someone’s dream?”

Adrien nodded grimly. “Alya’s.”

“So predictable,” Félix said with a roll of his eyes before heading for that specific door.

“Hold on, aren’t you gonna wait for Marinette?”

“Sentimentalities might get in the way if she goes in there too. Besides, the goal is to get Rossi _out_ of the dream and to _keep_ her out.”

“But–” 

“Don’t get your whiskers in a twist, Cousin. Just tell her not to follow me.”

“I don’t think that’s-” 

Félix had already opened the door. With a nod towards Adrien he turned around and stepped through. 

When the door fell closed behind him he found himself in Paris. However, it was eerily empty—an emptiness only seen during Akuma attacks these days and that Félix hadn’t ever experienced in person. He knew it from news reports though, filmed by reckless reporters or people who were too curious for their own good. It fit Alya, considering how most of the footage of a deserted Paris he had seen had come from her blog.

The blogger, however, was nowhere to be found. Félix might have needed to search the immediate area for a while if it hadn’t been for someone’s voice drifting around the corner, with as much sweetness as nails on a chalkboard had to offer. It was rather the tone than the familiar voice itself though, especially as it was a voice that didn’t make sense and had no place to be here. 

Curious and determined all at once Félix walked in its direction with a leisurely pace, listening to how his steps echoed between the large buildings. In contrast to the corridor though, whose echoes felt hollow and threatening, the echoes of this place made it seem huge and imposing, just like the real life Paris was—it seemed that sometimes people, especially locals, forgot that fact. He wasn’t sure what kind of nonsense Lila was trying to make Alya believe this time but as long as it wasn’t anything homicidal, he wasn’t particularly interested to find out. 

Before he turned the corner that would no doubt lead him to the two girls in question, Félix paused. This was Alya’s dream, and if he’d show up all of a sudden the way he was, she would no doubt instantly distrust him. He chanced a careful glance around the building and saw not Lila Rossi but _Ladybug_ stand there and talk to the reporter girl. Well, obviously not the real Ladybug, not with a scathing tone like this and not with the certainty that Marinette hadn’t even stepped out into the corridor yet. Besides, Lila was in this particular dream and there weren’t many options as to who she could be. It would make sense for her to disguise herself as Ladybug to appeal to Alya’s subconscious—with her worrying case of immense hero worship she’d probably listen blindly to almost anything the superheroine said.

Thinking quickly, Félix took the next best person Alya would trust and who he could confidently impersonate: Adrien. Taking a deep breath to think himself into the role, Félix eventually rounded the corner and walked up to them.

“-and that no one will ever love her. But only when you hear the words–”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, _Lila_ ,” Félix said, making Lila jump and whirl around to him while Alya just blinked in confusion.

“Wait, that’s not Lila,” she said.

“He’s lying,” Lila said, though he could hear the slight panic in her voice.

“Alya, remember when Lila was akumatised into Charmeleon and she could take any form she wished? She even impersonated me and said very hurtful things to you and Nino—” _Thank you Marinette for the insider information_ “—Just think about it: Would the _real_ Ladybug ever tell you to say such hurtful things so anyone?”

“No…she wouldn’t,” Alya slowly said, but still looked unsure.

“Don’t listen to him, Alya. He’s been—”

Before the liar could even finish her sentence, she was flung against the wall of a nearby building by an invisible force. 

Félix had to suppress a satisfied grin. Everyone could have superpowers in a dream if they only wanted to—the opportunities were practically boundless when one knew how to use them. Besides, it wouldn’t _hurt_ Lila, but the surprise might distract her just enough to drop her disguise. When she fell to the ground, glaring daggers at him, she was the duplicitous brunette once more. A glance to Alya showed her with her hands cupped over her mouth in shock.

“It really _is_ Lila,” she whispered.

“Glad to have that cleared up,” Félix said in his most cheery tone, still trying his best to imitate his cousin.

“I told you not to get in my way!” Lila snarled and before he knew what was happening, he had been thrown against the opposite house wall as well.

If this hadn’t been a dream, the impact might have broken every bone in his body. It was scary to think how often the girl had gotten akumatised already and how deliberately she had probably caused harm in a similar way. Letting this kind of fantastical violence stay within dreams was one thing, but taking it out into the real world as means of revenge was something completely else. And while it was beneath him to imitate Claude and throw a fireball at her, Félix was very tempted to do just that for a fraction of a second. He then reassessed that thought and remembered that he only did things _in style_ , and tried to recall what he could realistically get away with while pretending to be Adrien. Fortunately, he remembered just the thing.

“I was only trying to break your disguise, but if you want a fight, you leave me no choice,” he said, glared at Lila and then, very deliberately and theatrically, snapped his fingers.

The entire street exploded into a blazing inferno—sparing him and Alya of course.

Perhaps he should thank Adrien one of these days for forcing him to watch the entirety of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood with him a couple of years back, instead of continuing to pretend to not like it. Oh well, it wasn’t like his cousin would ever know.

When the fire dissipated, Lila looked a little dishevelled and her gaze was murderous. Then she yelled something Italian at him, the meaning of he didn’t need to understand to realise that it was an insult.

“I’m warning you, Adrien. This is your last chance to get out of here while I might consider sparing you after all. You can surely imagine what I could make your classmates or even your father do to you.”

Lila’s voice dripped with the kind of sweetness people only spoke in when they knew they had the upper hand, deliberately trying to be as condescending as possible while threatening someone. Her grin might as well have been a snarl at this point.

Not one to just let a threat towards his person—or in this case his family—go unpunished, Félix snapped his fingers again. Meanwhile, he wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or not that Lila wasn’t screaming in agony like a real person would have when being incinerated, as it no doubt meant that she was using some sort of dreamt power or object to shield herself from the flames. Adrien’s comment about how Lila was an insanely good dreamer wouldn’t leave the back of his mind, though he also decided to take the statement with a grain of salt. Just because she posed a danger to his cousin didn’t mean she also posed a danger to _him_.

When the flames dissipated once more, he couldn’t see any physical change in Lila's appearance. What had changed, though, was her expression. It had gone from infuriated to downright _murderous_.

“I’ll ruin you,” she seethed. “I’ll break through your door and make your life _hell_!”

For a little bit of fire that couldn’t even harm her in a dream? She really was quite easily provoked.

“You talk big for someone who didn’t manage to get through my door even once,” Félix said with a grin.

“I can get through _every_ door! I’ll even get through Marinette’s door one of these days!”

“Are you sure? You keep trying my door and Félix’s door, but you leave hers out. Can’t really get in if you don’t try, can you?”

Lila glared.

“Wait, what doors are you two talking about?”

“Oh, right,” Félix said—he had almost forgotten about Alya—and snapped his fingers again.

It was amusing to see Lila flinch this time, but all he had done was to move Alya’s dream door to this street. Normally that would have been near impossible—dream doors were the hardest object in dreams to manipulate, especially when they weren’t one’s own—but luckily all he needed was a replica. Once Alya saw it, her subconscious might replace it with the _real_ dream door. It was a trick he had picked up a few months back when he had originally just searched for a way to annoy Claude.

Lila narrowed her eyes at him and then let a wall grow between them and Alya, blocking the girl from sight and most likely also sound.

“You’re not Adrien.”

“What?”

How rude. His performance had been impeccable unlike last time when he had let his emotions get the better of him and he had acted out of character. He had even made an anime reference for goodness’ sake!

“Adrien isn’t powerful enough to move doors. _No one_ is powerful enough to move doors!”

Félix made a bow. “Well, yours truly is. I’ve been doing this for a while after all. Don’t think you know all my tricks, Rossi.”

A flicker went over her face and her glare grew cold. 

“Félix.”

Ah, crud. What had given him…oh, he had called her _Rossi_. Stupid mistake.

“Oh well, you caught me,” he said with a shrug, changing back to his normal appearance.

On second thought, this might actually play in his favour. He had gotten Lila away from Alya before she had been able to finish programming the girl, so he didn’t need a disguise anymore anyways. It seemed like it was time to enact plan E.

“Since when do _you_ actually care about what I do with Alya?”

“I don’t really,” he said in a disinterested voice. “I just had this little theory of mine and wanted to make sure my hunch was correct.”

“What theory?” She growled.

“That you’re a dreamer too. You made it quite obvious at the beginning when you tried to steal a personal object from me. By the way, your acting skills are absolutely horrid.”

“Fine, congratulations for figuring that out. Now get out of my way!”

Félix raised his eyebrows and threw her a disdainful look.

“Why waste your time with Alya and the other classmates? Why not go for bigger fish?”

“Because I’d need their possessions for that, idiot!”

Félix kept his expression in check to not show how insulted he actually was. Only Allegra was allowed to call him an idiot, though he tolerated even _that_ only on occasion! Then again, only intellectually inferior individuals called others _stupid_. Lila was starting to grasp at straws to get under his skin and it was glaringly obvious. How pitiful.

“Well, then you might be interested to know that I not only acquired a personal object of _the_ Ladybug, but that I have also found her door,” he said and threw Lila a smirk, deliberately acting as if he might have won. 

“Impossible. You’ve only been here for a couple of weeks!”

“It does have its perks to get on Marinette’s good side, you know? If you had done even a smidge of research, you would have known that she was the one who managed to secure interviews with Ladybug for Alya in the past. When I asked her about it, she said that the superheroes’ patrol routes cross her house and that they sometimes stop for pastries. All I had to do was to ask her to wave Ladybug down and ask for a chance to apologize for my _terrible behaviour_ on my Aunt’s disappearance anniversary. The heroes are surprisingly gullible when you just play nice in front of them instead of actively antagonising them, which makes me superior to you and your crude and childish methods.”

With all these murderous glares she was throwing him, Lila was honestly starting to look more than just a little deranged.

“Then how did you get an object? Her suit doesn’t exactly leave any objects to grab except for the yo-yo.”

“And that’s where you are mistaken,” Félix said and held up a red ribbon. “There _is_ something to grab. The tricky part is to not let her notice.”

He wasn’t sure if that was actually true or if the ribbons just disappeared upon detransforming, but _Lila_ didn’t know that.

“Fine, you one-upped me,” Lila growled. “Are you telling me this just to rub it in my face?!”

Félix shrugged. “I was actually about to suggest an alliance, but if you’re not interested…”

He went to walk back to the door, but only managed to take a few steps before Lila interjected.

“Wait!”

With his back to her, he allowed himself a self-satisfied grin before schooling his face back into a disdainful frown. She made this whole job _way_ too easy for him. Félix looked over his shoulder to her.

“Why would you even suggest that?” 

“For the record: I, too, have a personal grudge to settle with Ladybug. I am no fan of needlessly complicating a matter, so in order to hit two birds with one stone, why not team up just this once and make it worthwhile for the both of us?”

Lila’s facial expressions went through an entire rollercoaster within the span of ten seconds, starting with surprise, disbelief, surprise once more, before finally settling on a truly malicious grin.

_Gullible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, listen: When I wrote this chapter I was re-binging FMA Brotherhood and knitting on my very first scarf (it ended up looking absolutely horrible! :'D) and my brain was _dry_ when it came to originality. You can probably see the influences very clearly. ;w;  
> Then again, I'm not gonna apologize for the Roy Mustang reference or the knitting scene.


	25. Dreamers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story was practically _made_ for today's prompt! C:

The first thing Marinette noticed when she stepped out into the corridor was that Félix’s door was directly opposite from hers.

_Huh, that’s never happened before._

The second thing was a blur of black that zoomed towards her and just barely managed to stop before crashing into her legs. Hammy—he had decided to accompany her on her shoulder—let out an alarmed squeak at the sight of the black cat.

“Yarn ball,” Adrien said before she could even get a word out. “Félix went after Lila into Alya’s dream!”

“How long ago?” She asked and immediately started walking down the corridor in a hasty pace. 

While she might have never seen Félix’s father’s door, Duusu had given her yet another feather that would help her find it. She let it loose without a second thought while Adrien trotted next to her.

“Ten to twenty minutes maybe. Hard to tell.”

She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. A minute could be an hour or vice versa within a dream which made it extremely difficult to tell the passage of time.

“He told me to tell you not to follow him,” Adrien added, which wasn’t surprising. 

This plan might work better if she was already at Félix’s father’s door rather than trying her hand at _acting_ while in Alya’s dream. Félix was definitely better at _that_ than she was.

“By the way, you aren’t allergic to feathers in a dream too, are you?” She asked to change the subject and hopefully calm her nerves a little with it.

Adrien let out a laugh. “Luckily not. Is that from the Pea–” 

“Not here,” she cut him off. Lila might still be within Alya’s dream, but they didn’t know who else dwelled in these corridors. “And yes, it is. I was allowed to borrow it for tonight.”

At least _borrowing_ the Peacock Miraculous was the closest scenario to the truth that she could think of.

“Hey, why is Hammy still with you? Isn’t he supposed to guard your door?”

Marinette pet the hamster on her shoulder with a finger.

“He just wanted to come along, I guess. While I’m in the corridor no one can get through my door anyway, so maybe he thought he could do more for me out here.”

Hammy squeaked, as if to agree.

The feather eventually stopped and sailed down in front of a red door with golden ornaments.

“Are you sure this is the right door?” Adrien asked.

“Yes. It’s exactly like Félix described it.

“Then I guess now we wait?” 

He had sat down next to the door in a similar way to how he usually sat in front of his own door, tail wrapped around him and attentive.

“Yep,” Marinette said and leaned against the wall, gazing through the empty corridor, and fixating her eyes on Alya’s still closed door in the distance.

The usual silence prevailed for what was probably only a couple of seconds.

“So, why a cat?” She asked, not able to contain her curiosity any longer.

“I…uh…I like cats,” Adrien stammered and looked to the ground. 

She couldn’t be sure since the fur was in the way, but she was pretty sure that he was blushing. Great, now she had embarrassed him. Wonderful start. 

Her door sign that proclaimed for all the world to see—or at least to everyone in the corridor—the confused status of her heart, came to mind again. Why was it so difficult to let go and move on? While her heart wasn’t crying out desperately for Adrien to notice her anymore, it was all it had ever known to do in his presence. What did a good friend do though? She knew that Lila had a hand in turning her former friends against her, but someone should tell her stubborn heart that! The guilt of not being able to help but feeling like she had done something wrong kept her on the spot, anxious to take the first step all over again. Would friendship even work with Adrien in that way? What if he wouldn’t like her because she had had a crush on him and wanted to just be acquaintances?

Wait, no. That was nonsense! Adrien loved making friends and he, too, had partially lost a lot of them through Lila. He wasn’t the type to just let friends go. He wouldn’t just discard her…like Alya had done.

_Nope! Bad heart! That was Lila’s fault, not Alya’s!_

“Your door is across from Félix’s tonight,” Adrien said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess.”

“Are you _sure_ you two aren’t a couple?”

Now _that_ had come out of nowhere! And it was also the last topic she wanted to talk to _Adrien_ about. She threw him a look between embarrassment and annoyance, or at least she hoped that was what it looked like. It was definitely what she felt at any case.

“Very sure.”

“Huh.”

“W-why would you even ask that?”

“Sorry, it’s just that usually the door across from yours is from your soulmate…at least when it stays the same every night.”

Marinette frowned. “The door across from mine changes every night. Tonight, it just happens to be Félix’s.”

After long conversations with Tikki—and in the past also Master Fu—about the subject, she had decided that fate and destiny were unreliable. As nice as the thought might have been once upon a time, she just didn’t believe in soulmates anymore—platonic, romantic, or otherwise. It just…the thought made her think that an outside force was dictating her life and wouldn’t even let her make her own choice when it came to her future romantic partner. With how much else was already dictated by outside forces for her right now, she wanted to have a choice at least in _this_ department. If Adrien wanted to interpret the constantly opposite doors—like Mylène’s and Ivan’s or Juleka’s and Rose’s—as a sign of people being soulmates, then that was because he was a hopeless romantic and lived for that sort of thing. Besides, it wasn’t too far-fetched to draw that conclusion when the doors of the couples in their class were all, without fail, opposite from each other.

Adrien ducked his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I…I just feel awful about the whole crush thing and–” 

“Adrien, not now. _Please_.”

That really wasn’t the kind of conversation they should have on a time crunch. After all, Lila and Félix could come out of Alya’s door any second now.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet and heavy with shame.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault or anything.”

“I just…I just want you to be happy,” he said, still quiet.

Marinette looked down to see him look up at her with kitty eyes that shimmered with desperation. A not so small part of her jumped in joy at that statement, knowing that it meant that Adrien still wanted to be her friend and cared for her. Another part, the one that still held romantic feelings for him, wept with the realisation that while he wanted her to be happy, he wouldn’t _be_ the one that would make her happy in that way. She metaphorically trampled that part out as if it had caught on fire and decided to focus on the joy, and on not letting herself be swayed by guilty kitty eyes—she had practice with those at this point.

“T-thank you. But seriously, right now the timing for this conversation is just horrible. Let’s talk about it when we’re both awake.” 

_And emotionally ready for it,_ she added in thought. 

“Okay.”

Hammy suddenly let out a loud scream that made her jump so badly, the poor hamster almost fell off—she hadn’t even known hamsters _could_ scream. Her surprise quickly turned into grim concentration when she saw Alya’s door open.

“You sure you wanna be here for this? It could get messy,” Marinette said.

“No offense, but I have two years of practice on you when it comes to dreaming. You should better ask yourself if _you_ want to get involved in this.”

“I’ve been involved from the start. No way I’m backing out now.”

Marinette went through the plans in her head again, noting all the small changes they had made that afternoon and the conclusions they had come to. Lots of it was freestyling, so she didn’t quite know what to expect from Félix—or what plan in particular he had even decided to take since they had almost gone through the entire alphabet—but she at least knew how to play along convincingly and adapt quickly when the stakes were high and the situation called for it.

Hammy chattered his teeth threateningly when the two figures approached and she felt him stand on his hind legs. It seemed like the little furball really was determined to fight for her and she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh about it. Who’d have thought that dream creations would be so loyal as to throw themselves at a target several hundred times their size?

A threatening growl from her left suddenly startled her. In the second where she hadn’t looked, Adrien had taken on the form of a panther again, just like he had done earlier that week when he had protected Félix and her from a creepy darkness—that had definitely been Lila. He held a striking resemblance to Alya’s father’s panther from the zoo, but that might just be because it was the only panther she—and probably he, too—had ever seen.

Channelling her inner Ladybug, she fixed her eyes back on Lila and Félix. The latter was doing a remarkable job at looking like his mischievous, bratty self from over a month ago and she considered if she could get away with decking him to make things more realistic. 

“Ah, the _greeting committee_ ,” Félix said arrogantly and her urge to punch him in the face doubled. 

Adrien growled and snapped at Lila when she came too close. Marinette had to give it to her, she didn’t even _flinch_.

“This is as far as you’re gonna get,” Marinette said darkly, glaring at both of them and imagined a _gun,_ the long staff weapon used in Chinese martial arts. 

She might not be Ladybug right now, but that didn’t mean that she was _helpless_. Her mother had taught her wushu from a young age and the dream gave her an amazing opportunity to try her skills out on Lila—and maybe even a little on Félix, as some payback was _still_ due.

Félix snorted. “Did you two appoint yourselves as door wards? That’s not gonna work.”

Before Marinette could even _try_ to whack him atop the head with the stick, she was thrown against the wall with her hands pinned at her sides by an invisible force. Hammy had been thrown down by the sudden movement and was currently trying to get back on his paws on the ground. Which one of them had done it?

Judging by Lila’s grin full of schadenfreude, it might have been her, but it could just as well have been Félix. Either way, this had only remotely been part of the plan. Then again, _which_ plan exactly were they enacting now? She guessed plan E, but it might as well be plan F, L or R—they were all rather similar.

“You lying bastard,” she spat, hoping he would take that opening to clue her in to any details.

“Did you really think I wanted to _apologize_ when I asked you to wave her down? Honestly, Marinette, I might have expected that level of gullibleness from Adrien but not from you. You disappoint me.”

Plan E.

Adrien hissed—he looked and sounded genuinely offended—and jumped forward only for Félix to dodge the leap. With an agility he had no doubt acquired from fencing, basketball or his multiple other physical extracurriculars, as well as some feline grace, Adrien immediately turned back around and this time managed to throw Félix to the ground. Not even being shoved and held by invisible forces could detain Adrien for long. Marinette, still hopelessly pinned to the wall, had to admit that two years of experience really _did_ make a huge difference.

_Damn it, maybe I should have listened to him after all._

Meanwhile her only option was to glare at Lila while the cousins fought.

“How does it feel to lose, Marinette?” Lila asked sweetly and walked up to her. “Then again, you’re probably used to the feeling by now, aren’t you?”

Marinette was very tempted to throw curse words at Lila that her mother would no doubt ground her for. In the name of not getting too emotional—who knew what her dream might conjure if she did and she couldn’t risk accidentally revealing her identity to _Lila_ of all people—and staying calm, she suppressed them and instead intensified her glare. 

Suddenly she had trouble breathing as the feeling of an invisible hand wrapped around her throat.

“Answer me, bitch!”

Welp, no one said that she had to be _nice._

“How demented are you, Lila?” Marinette wheezed out. “I can’t talk when you strangle me.”

Getting those last few words out was quite difficult.

Lila’s grin fell and she glared. “Still sassy, are you? You see, these dreams give a lot of nice opportunities for torture, especially psychological. I could ram a knife through your eye, or even better: I could dream up your parents and murder them.”

“Oh god, you _are_ a psychopath,” Marinette wheezed out and with horror noticed that Lila really held a rather large kitchen knife in her right hand.

She grinned. “Well, everyone has dark thoughts from time to time, but these are dreams, so whatever I do here doesn’t matter, does it? Then again, even if I’d do it in real life, no one would miss y– _aaaaah_ ” 

Her statement was cut off by a painful scream. Marinette was confused for a second as to what had caused it as Félix and Adrien were still fighting a few metres away—though they paused at the noise—but then she saw it. 

Hammy was biting hard into Lila’s right hand, which had made her drop the knife blade-first on her foot. The hamster didn’t stop there, however, and climbed all over her to bite whatever patch of skin he could reach and all the way let out squeaky screams that were probably battle cries.

With Lila’s concentration gone, Marinette felt the invisible hands that held her in place weaken and she pulled free. Hammy was now officially promoted to her favourite ward and she’d imagine a mountain full of nuts and other treats for him once this was all over.

When it looked like Lila was starting to get the upper hand once more, Marinette picked up her stick and with a practised swing, made Lila double over—a blow to the stomach. More hits followed, her time as Ladybug coming in handy, knowing from first-hand-experience which body parts were most vulnerable and where it was easy to lose balance. She was about to deliver a wushu-unlike punch to Lila’s face, when she was thrown back again. 

She growled in frustration before noticing that Félix was on his feet again and Adrien—now a housecat once more—was held on the ground by…the ground. It was like it had grown parts of itself like earthy roots around Adrien to suspend him—did Félix know Fullmetal Alchemist or had that just been a coincidence? Either way, he and Lila were in control of the situation again—why had it taken so long to begin with?

“Finally,” Félix said with an annoyed sigh and didn’t even spare her or Adrien as much as a glance. “Let’s go before they manage to free themselves.”

Lila sent Marinette a grin that she could only describe as _pure evil_. 

“No worries, I’ll be back and we can continue our _fun_ later. First, I’m gonna take care of Ladybug.”

“Why would you do this Lila?! Ladybug _protects_ the city! You’re dooming the entirety of Paris!” Adrien yelled from where he was still stuck.

Lila chuckled. “Maybe I _want_ Paris to fall.”

Marinette wiggled in the invisible hold, now very tempted to beat her up with her _bare hands_ while she still could in a dream, but Félix didn’t let her go. Maybe that was for the best. Listening to her more destructive impulses had not rarely led to disaster in the past.

“Ladies first,” Félix said as he opened the red door and held it open for Lila with a grin and an inviting gesture. 

She couldn’t help but send Marinette and Adrien both another cruel smile before sauntering right into the dream.

Marinette held her breath as Lila stepped over the threshold and only at the last second, before Félix slammed the door shut behind her once and for all, saw how Hammy was still on her, ready to bite and scratch. Round, black hamster eyes her way was the last she saw of him before he, just like Lila, was lost to the dream corridor forever.

She had imagined this moment many times while planning, but in none of the plans had she fallen to the ground and started sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...sorry


	26. Playground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a foggy morning and some reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, this chapter took a completely different turn from its original outline and I really didn't plan to put so much emphasis on the mourning aspect in this story. Welp, at this point I'm just glad I tagged it and am therefore about to tell you "I told you so" in case I ever get any complaints about heavy topics.  
> For the record, this chapter isn't going as in-depth and psychological about it as Spellbound does, so no trigger warnings or anything of the like are required! I'm just surprised by how real it suddenly got. Apparently I can't write 100% light-hearted things.

Waking up in the early morning after bringing Lila down was daunting as much as it was a relief. After all, locking her in his father’s dream still meant that he could never visit it again without risking letting her out. Unfortunately, locking her in a dream didn’t make her disappear in real life as well, so they’d still need to deal with her at school. Judging by how Marinette, Adrien, and him had doomed her to a fate of a monotone dream that stripped her of her power, he couldn’t imagine that those interactions would be very _friendly_. Then again, that wasn’t anything new. 

The first thing Félix did once he sat up in bed with a tired groan was to untangle several odd objects from himself and deposit them on his bedside table—they added up to a respectfully-sized pile with a book being the largest and a hair clip being the smallest of the things. Once he was done, he ran a hand through his hair—no doubt a terrible case of bedhead that would require extensive styling to tame it—and looked out the window. The cloudy sky was still slightly dark, but brightening by the minute with fog coating the city and making the landmarks he could usually see from his window disappear. It looked like the perfect weather to stay at home, drink tea, and read a book, so that was what he decided to do.

He took his phone, opened the private chat with Marinette, and sent only one short message before getting up and resuming his morning routine.

> `**Félix:** Text me once you’re awake.`

Félix had just put Macbeth back on his bookshelf—he had finished reading the last act and drank one cup of tea while he had done so—and was considering which of the few books he had brought with him to Paris he should read next, when the phone on his desk vibrated. It was almost half past eight at this point and seeing how Marinette had a habit of sleeping in, he didn’t expect the message to be from her. He was wrong.

> `**Marinette:** define “awake”`

Félix chuckled.

> `**Félix:** I define it as “not asleep.”`
> 
> `**Marinette:** eh who knows at this point`
> 
> `**Félix:** If you want more rest, then by all means try to get it. You deserve it the most of us three.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** no I’ve had it with dreams! I’d rather be awake rn`
> 
> `**Félix:** Are you awake enough for and comfortable with taking a walk?`
> 
> `**Marinette:** way ahead of ya`
> 
> `I’ve been up since 6 and wandering around the city`
> 
> `I’ll send you my location and you can join me if you want`

Félix was almost embarrassed how fast he managed to fill the remains of his tea into a thermos and put on his winter jacket and shoes. What he could admit though was that he was worried about her. Waking up at six in the morning was more than unusual for her, no less walking around the city at that time. Last night must have shaken her up more than he had previously assumed.

_Félix breathed a heavy sigh when his father’s door fell shut for the last time. It wasn’t quite one of relief, but more one of resignation as with it, both Lila’s reign and the last_ living _remnants of his father had come to an end. He instantly dropped his role, as well as the restraints keeping Marinette and Adrien in place. As he was about to apologize about perhaps having been a little too rough trying to make things believable, he saw how Marinette fell to the floor, her eyes fixed on the door as they filled with tears. He was instantly alarmed._

_Her lips wordlessly moved, but no sound came out._

_“Marinette?” Adrien asked and hesitantly walked over to her._

_He was still a cat, probably more of habit than anything else at this point, and carefully nudged one of her limb hands with a paw. Félix was glad that he did, because he was still frozen in place, looking at her without the slightest clue what to do._

_“Hammy,” she eventually croaked out quietly._

_Oh, right. Where_ was _the hamster? He had done a commendable job fighting Lila and…oh. Félix looked back at the closed door that they weren’t allowed to open ever again and then back to Marinette. Damn it. He should have checked before sending the liar through the door, maybe plucked the hamster off of her before closing the door, but it was too late now._

_“I’m sorry,” he said, the only thing he knew to do in this situation._

_Marinette just shook her head, stood up without another word and then slowly walked back to her own dream door._

_“Marinette, wait!” Adrien said, and looked like he was to go after her, but Félix picked him up by the scruff._

_“Let her mourn. Dream or not, the hamster was real to her, so the loss is real to her.”_

_Adrien’s feline form slumped before fighting his way out of Félix’s hold._

_“I hope she’ll be okay.”_

_“She will be once she has worked through the five stages of grief. You and I both know how difficult those can be.”_

_His cousin sighed and nodded just as Marinette’s door closed behind her._

_“We need sleep too,” Félix said. “Especially you, now that you can finally get some in peace again. Sleep as long as possible to catch up.”_

_Adrien chuckled a little embarrassed. “That’ll probably take the entirety of Sunday. Father won’t be pleased.”_

_“Screw his opinion,” Félix scoffed. “I’ll set Mum on his case about it if he says anything and then he can learn what_ real _fear feels like.”_

As he recalled it now while walking the still slightly foggy Parisian streets with a location app pulled up, he realised that he should have predicted something like this. He of all people knew how hard it was to lose someone, as he too had just in a way, lost something very important to him that night. Perhaps they could mourn together, though that would surely be a pitiful sight, especially since he had mostly made peace with his decision already.

Félix found Marinette sitting on the swing of an empty playground and staring at the ground. She only looked up when the gravel crunched underneath his feet when he approached. The look was something he was more than familiar with from his reflection a couple of months ago—empty eyes, putting on a fake smile, acting like everything was under control and completely fine while it was anything but.

He nodded at her in a wordless greeting before sitting down on the swing next to hers and offering the thermos.

“Tea?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“No, thank you. I’m a hot chocolate heathen,” she said with a grin but it was hollow, not reaching her eyes.

The silence between them wasn’t tense, but it also wasn’t exactly comfortable. Now and again, he took a sip from his tea while pulling up resources about loss on his phone that had helped him—going through something didn’t necessarily mean that he knew how to help her, especially as their situations were quite different.

“I’m sorry for being in such a bad mood. I know it’s stupid and–” 

“Mourning isn’t stupid. Don’t apologize for it,” Félix interjected which drew a surprised look from her.

“Hammy wasn’t even a real hamster. And even if he was, I’m fifteen and shouldn’t be–” 

“–emotional about it?” He interrupted again. 

Marinette nodded. 

“If you’re worried about Akumas, then I can keep an eye out for them while you work through it. Don’t ridicule your feelings, though. If you do that, you won’t ever be able to work through them and move on.”

Marinette sighed and threw the ground an ironic smile, swinging a little back and forth with her feet still firmly planted on the gravel. 

“You always know what to say, huh?”

“On the contrary: I’m at a total loss. That’s why I consider the words I _do_ say very carefully.”

She nodded thoughtfully before letting silence reign them once more. Traffic sounds, phone conversations from passing pedestrians, a helicopter flying overhead, as well as other, smaller, city noises all muddled into a background murmur that he knew how to ignore. When a few minutes passed and something new mixed itself into the chorus of noises, yet set itself apart by how different and close it was—the sound of quiet sniffling—he just wordlessly took a package of tissues out of his coat and handed it to her. 

More time passed in which he wasn’t really sure what to do, or if _doing_ anything would even help rather than worsen the situation. Back when his father had died, he had wanted everyone to leave him alone while his mother had sought out friends. Their opposite ways of handling grief had been one of the reasons for seeking professional help from separate therapists who had explained a whole deal to the two of them. Only heaven knew what might have happened if they hadn’t gone to family counselling sessions and their separate therapy sessions. In the end, he was glad that the two of them had managed to stay on the same page and not grow apart from the loss. It was something that definitely couldn’t be said for his cousin’s side of the family. No doubt his uncle would throw a tantrum if anyone would so much as _mention_ therapy as an opinion for him.

Félix looked back at Marinette. With everything she was going through, she desperately required the help of a professional as well, but for now, _he_ would just have to suffice as a substitute therapist.

It had almost been twenty minutes in which Marinette had cried, Félix had exchanged worried but ultimately resigned glances with Tikki—she was peeking out of Marinette’s bag.

“If it hadn’t been for Lila, none of this would have happened,” Marinette eventually said, glaring at the tissue in her hand.

Ah, the _anger_ stage. Félix knew it all too well. It was the very stage of grief he had persistently fallen back on when he had had a setback, including, but not limited to, his childish revenge plan against Adrien over a month ago.

“You mean your discovery of the dreams?”

She shook her head, paused, nodded hesitantly and then let out a frustrated snort. 

“No, not really. I’m angry about everything else though!”

Irrationality. It was a very strong part of it.

“It might not help much, but she will surely suffer psychological distress from being forced to have the same monotone dream every night.”

A small smile crossed her face. “And Hammy will bite the hell out of her too.”

Félix chuckled. “When you look at it that way, he is serving out the just punishment we can’t while she’s locked behind that door. He hasn’t died, but is still fighting for you, in a way.”

Marinette nodded. “I know he has only existed for barely two weeks and only in dreams, but I’m still gonna miss Hammy.”

“I understand. I’m going to miss my father’s dream too, somehow. But what was it that you said the other day? That dreams were a little too perfect and that we should live and breathe in the here and now?”

“I guess I did say that. Seems stupid now.”

“You were right though. After my father’s death, I became obsessed with the dreams, but it wasn’t healthy and just halted my progress. If I had kept myself out of his dead dream or hadn’t dreamt memories with him up in my own dreams, I might have made more improvements and probably wouldn’t have kept falling back into the second stage of grief. Who knows? Maybe what happened a month ago wouldn’t have ever happened if I hadn’t been blinded by anger. Either way, what has been done is done now and we can’t turn back the clock. The sensible thing is to move forward and live life to the fullest.”

“For someone who apparently doesn’t know what to say you keep finding the right words somehow,” Marinette said quietly and he saw a faint smile reach her eyes.

“It’s a complete coincidence, I assure you. I’m glad it seems to help though.”

Marinette sighed quietly, her breath forming a small cloud in the morning autumn air.

“What do you think about parkouring with limited vision?” She suddenly asked, her smile not quite a smirk, but as close to it as it was probably able to get to one at this moment.

“Insanity.”

She let out a short, amused laugh.

“Chicken.”

“Or otherwise known as seemingly the only sane person here. If you had suggested practicing illusions while vision is limited and the general populous cannot see superheroes on the rooftops, then I would have agreed.”

There was a faint hint of glee sparking in her eyes at the words.

“Good thing I brought your Miraculous along _just in case_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never invalidate your own feelings, even if other people say they're ridiculous!  
> One friend once called me ridiculous for mourning a tree I've seen almost every day of my whole life getting felled and it was very hurtful. So yeah, also never tell someone they're ridiculous or stupid for feeling what they're feeling, especially when they're mourning someone or something!


	27. In Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the chapters that just refused to end. Rude, right? :I

Walking into school that day felt worse than an anxious person walking into a haunted house at night. Marinette had no idea what to expect now that they had put an end to Lila’s ability to manipulate their classmates in their dreams. Would people be jumping out and attacking her left and right or would things suddenly have returned to normal? How much had Lila been able to program them beforehand and how long did those effects last? Had Alya’s dream been the first one she had visited on Saturday night or were there other classmates, freshly programmed, in the classroom that would tear into her as soon as they’d hear a specific phrase? And what about Alya? Would she suddenly go back to being her best friend, or would the doubts Lila had sown still cling to her and drive her against Marinette?

With too many questions and too few answers, Marinette waited at the bottom of the stairs. She was early. _Very_ early, in fact, and not just for her standards. The school gates had _just_ been opened and she was fidgeting in place, a box full of bakery goods in her hands. The thought alone of going into the classroom _on her own_ only to possibly be subjected to one hurtful remark after the other while the students trickled in, made her almost physically sick. Or worse, the ominous whispers would make their rounds once more, driving her paranoid about every glance her way and every single mumbled conversation, certain that it spelled doom in the making. On other days, she might be able to brave it on her own, but with the loss of Hammy, the uncertainty of the entire situation and the fight against Hawkmoth still in front of her, she was just far too anxious. 

“Somehow I expected that this would happen.”

Marinette couldn’t help the squeak that escaped her when she whirled around, her posture immediately tense and ready to either run or to mentally shield herself from whatever would come. Only a second later did she realise that the speaker was one of the only people she _didn’t_ need to be defensive around. If someone would have told her that just two weeks ago she would have called them crazy.

“Morning, Félix,” she said, accompanied by a sigh of relief.

“Good morning,” he replied in kind. “Let me guess: nerves?”

Marinette shrugged. “Among other things.”

“Shall we talk about it inside then? It’s getting a little too chilly out here,” he said and started climbing the steps. Marinette briskly followed.

“And here I thought British people were used to cold weather. These seven degrees should be normal for you.”

“Don’t you start with it too. Claude already teases me about my aversion to the cold relentlessly.”

She snorted. “Next thing I know you’ll be complaining about rain as well.”

Félix gave her a _look_ , something like a soft glare and let the silence stretch out a little _too long_ to be able to talk his way out of _that_ one.

“No way.”

“It is unpleasant to be caught in when outside. I’m sure most people would agree with me on that.”

“Speaking of unpleasant, it’ll probably be an unpleasant week for the three of us. At least until whatever Lila did has run its course.”

“Just the two of us for now. After Uncle tried to get Adrien to a photoshoot yesterday afternoon and Mum got involved, she somehow managed to threaten him enough to give Adrien sick leave for today.”

Marinette let out a jealous groan. “I wish _I_ could take sick leave, yet here I am.”

“You’ll survive,” Félix said and held the door open for her. “In any case, this week will give us precious information.”

She hummed. Lila might not be able to control their dreams anymore, but until they really knew how far her control still stretched, Marinette couldn’t consider any of her classmates as Miraculous holders. 

And, really, the thought of picking her parents became more attractive the more she thought about it. For one, she was absolutely certain that she could trust her parents with Miraculouses—her Papa would be _thrilled!_ Secondly, they weren’t and hadn’t ever been under Lila’s control, which meant that that risk factor was eradicated completely. Besides, her Maman was already skilled in martial arts and her Papa was strong as a bear; both things that would really come in handy in a fight against Hawkmoth.

The only reason why she hadn’t given them Miraculouses to train with yet had been the unresolved situation with Lila and the nagging feeling at the back of her head to choose holders her own age. Who said that she needed to stick to teenagers though?

Marinette had decided to sit down on her old seat next to Alya once more. The best way to find out if her friend’s behaviour had changed was to test it out and observe her from up close. Her suggestion for Félix to sit down in Adrien’s vacant seat—she still didn’t feel perfectly safe so far up front and it would help to have him near—was denied by not just Félix himself but also Nino and Alya.

“No offense, Nette, but not after the stunt he pulled back when my dude was down,” Nino said.

For the, she didn’t know how manyth, time, Marinette couldn’t give anything more than a resigned sigh. It was Félix’s mess to sort out and not her position to tell people who to forgive for what and when. Especially since she herself hadn’t exactly forgiven him for that incident either, but she somehow _tolerated_ it. While it was anything but forgotten, she had decided to accept it as just another major screw-up that had happened in her life and move on from it. After all, once upon a time, she had even been benignant towards _Chloé_ and would most likely still be on carefully friendly terms with her if it hadn’t been for her most recent betrayal.

“That’s alright. I’ll have a better overview and some more peace from the back anyways,” Félix said with a shrug before climbing the rest of the stairs.

“ _Overview,_ ” Alya scoffed. “As if we’re some kind of circus attraction.”

With Lila as their conductor, they pretty much had been. Trained to respond to commands to do her bidding. The comparison was disconcertingly on point and Marinette couldn’t suppress a small shudder.

“Hey, Alya?” She hesitantly asked. “Are we good?”

Alya tore her gaze away from Félix and instead turned to her with furrowed eyebrows. She seemed genuinely confused.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because of the entirety of last week?” Marinette asked, now equally confused.

“Hey, you can sit wherever you want, I don’t mind. And after Adrien got together with Kagami I really don’t blame you if you want some distance to come to terms with it. Just crappy that the furthest seat away from him is next to Monsieur Moody Bastard back there.”

“Uh…w-what?”

Alya didn’t remember?

“I mean, if you forgave him that’s okay, but that doesn’t mean that _I’ll_ forgive him any time soon!” Alya went on in her usually fiery tone.

“I don’t expect you to. But what about the thing a week ago when you accused us of being a couple?”

Alya blinked. “I did? Oh, sorry, that probably was stupid wording or something. I just saw you at the restaurant but I didn’t think you were a couple or anything…I think. Honestly, things are super fuzzy from the last few weeks.”

Marinette was sure that if her eyebrows rose any higher they’d leave the restraints of her face altogether.

“You really don’t remember?”

The question was unnecessary as the honest confusion on her friend’s face said it all already. 

Alya shrugged. “I dunno, girl. It’s like a veil has been lifted today and I’m more awake. You’re probably right and I should stop writing on my blog so late.”

“Yeah…that’s probably it.” 

Throughout the next ten minutes, Marinette held similar conversations with several of her classmates. Most were as confused as Alya was while others just straight up denied that anything like that happened at all and said she must have dreamt it—the irony!

It was five minutes before class was due to start when Lila walked in. Her gaze was burning with fury and it was solely directed at the back row. Marinette didn’t dare to glance back and see Félix’s reaction—either a grin or passive nonchalance, she guessed—and instead kept her eyes firmly on Lila who stood rooted at the front of the classroom.

The silent stare-off—or rather _glare-off_ —was broken by Rose’s enthusiastic “Good morning, Lila!” which prompted Lila to slip back into her saccharine-smiling persona.

“Good morning,” she said, a greeting that might sound genuine when one didn’t pay close attention, but Marinette noticed how she rather gritted it out through smile-clenched teeth.

Letting the familiar dread of the unknown settle into her stomach, she decided to doodle a fox into a corner of her sketchbook. At this point, she couldn’t do much more than waiting for class to start or for the very last of Lila’s conditioned attacks to go off. Whatever came first.

“Hey, is it just me or does Lila seem off to you?”

Marinette had to do a double-take at that question. Did Alya just _seriously_ notice something _off_ about Lila’s behaviour? She shouldn’t get her hopes up.

“Like what?”

Alya watched how Lila took her seat next to Nathaniel.

“I don’t know. Like she’s in a bad mood?”

It had been _months_ since Marinette had heard Alya make a comprehensible deduction like that, or at least it felt like it—she had to suppress the urge to jump up in joy. Well, it hadn’t been a _perfect_ deduction but still leagues better than ‘you’re just saying she’s lying because you’re jealous.’ That did make her wonder though just _how much_ of what her friends and classmates had said since Lila’s return to school had been born from their own will or what they had just been manipulated to say.

This war might be over, but recovering from it would surely take a long while for everyone involved.

Marinette paced up and down her room, feeling Tikki’s eyes on her as the goddess waited for her to get a hold of herself. It was Tuesday, she had dragged Félix out to patrol with her and Chat Noir the previous evening—that had _certainly_ been an _interesting_ two hours—which had ended in another serious discussion between her and her partner. They both agreed that they shouldn’t take any risks and that Félix wasn’t only too new to using a Miraculous but to _anything_ Miraculous-related in general to be enough to tip the scales with Hawkmoth. They needed Parisians with experience, preferably ones that had been directly involved in fights before and had held their own. In that conversation, her parents had come up again and since she was still on the fence about her entire class, she had eventually agreed. Chat Noir had been thrilled, considering the circumstances.

That left Marinette with the task of delivering not only the Miraculouses to her parents but to also somehow convince them to go out after dark before going to bed to train. It would eat up all the free time they had at the end of the day and while she knew that she herself barely had any free time either, it still didn’t seem fair to do that to her parents.

“Marinette?”

She halted in her pacing to look over to Wayzz and Pollen, who sat next to Tikki on her desk, and sipped tea and honey respectively.

“If I may be so bold, I believe you’re overcompensating for the situation once more,” Pollen said.

Tikki and Wayzz both nodded in agreement.

“You are sure you want to choose your parents as holders, right?” Wayzz asked.

Marinette nodded. There was no better choice for the moment.

“Then trust in your decision. You have rarely hesitated in the past and your choices have been good ones.”

“Wayzz is right. Trust in yourself, Marinette,” Tikki said and flew up to hover in front of her with an encouraging smile. “What were you worrying about in particular?”

“Cutting into their free time with the training,” she mumbled.

Pollen looked at her with a furrowed brow. 

“This is something for them to decide, not for you. If they feel like superhero work would be detrimental to their business and they, or one of them, deny for that reason, then it’s better to know about it sooner rather than later. Besides, they’re adults who raised a child in this bakery while it was in business. I’m certain they can handle themselves and their time just fine,” Pollen said and then took a decisive sip of her honey, just like her mother would take a sip of tea at the end of an argument.

Marinette sighed.

“You’re all right. I’m just nervous that they’ll recognise me or that I’ll slip up during the training or the fight against Hawkmoth and then Chat Noir would find out my identity as well and–” 

“You’re catastrophising again,” Tikki interrupted her with a sigh and patted her head. “Don’t worry, Marinette, things will work out, you’ll see!”

Standing in front of her parents as Ladybug in their living room was just as nerve-wracking as she had expected it to be. Maybe even more so, because when she had knocked on the window and her mother had let her in, her father’s first reaction had been to grab the rest of their dinner baguette and stand in front of the window after she had entered as if he could defend them with it. It was _so_ her Papa that it just solidified her decision of giving him a Miraculous.

“Is there an Akuma?” Her mother asked.

“No, Madame, don’t worry. I’m here for something else,” Ladybug said, extremely mindful not to accidentally slip up and call them _Maman_ and _Papa_.

She opened up her yo-yo, about to pull out the two Miraculous boxes of its pocket dimension, when she paused and looked at her parents once more.

“Please close the window, this might take longer than just a few minutes. And what I have to say _can’t_ leave this room, understand?”

Finally comprehending the seriousness of the matter, her father closed the window and her parents offered her a seat on the sofa—it was extremely weird to be treated like a guest in her own home by her own parents.

“Does it have something to do with Hawkmoth?” Her mother asked once they all had sat down.

Ladybug nodded. “Through a coincidence we found out his identity and are currently planning for what will hopefully be the final battle. After the Miracle Queen fight, the entire team of temporary holders has been compromised, so Chat Noir and I are currently trying to recruit new holders for this fight. However, since the fight is so challenging and dangerous, we cannot just throw in newbies with no training or previous sets of skills. When we were brainstorming, Chat Noir suggested the two of you and I agree that it’d be a good choice. What do you say?”

She had to suppress the reflex to nervously bite her lip. While the rehearsed speech had gone over flawlessly, in her attempt to sound as unfamiliar with them as possible, she might have sounded a little too cold.

Her father stood up. “Of course we’ll help! What do you need us to do?”

A small smile formed on her face, already having expected her father’s enthusiasm. Her gaze then shifted to her mother, who looked more determined than excited and nodded at her.

“Alright,” Ladybug said with a sigh and then finally pulled the two Miraculous boxes out of her yo-yo.

“These are the Miraculouses of the Turtle and the Bee, for protection and subjection respectfully. Are you familiar with how they generally operate?”

Her parents both nodded.

“Alright, then let us go over parts of the plan and construct a training schedule.”

It was on Wednesday night after the training, as Ladybug accompanied Félix back home while Chat Noir accompanied her parents—it was easier to keep her identity a secret that way—when the topic of dreams became prevalent again.

“Why don’t we just manipulate Uncle in his dream into giving up his Miraculous?”

Ladybug almost stumbled on her next jump and then stopped, wrapping her yo-yo around Félix’s arm to make him stop as well.

“Because I’m not that type of person,” she said firmly and without hesitation.

“It would mean the least risk attached.”

“By stooping down to Lila’s and Hawkmoth’s level and using people as our marionettes? I haven’t fought him for _two years_ to let it end like _that_.”

She didn’t even need to think about it to know that an action like this would cause her sleepless nights for years, maybe even decades to come. Back when finding out Hawkmoth’s identity over a week ago, she had even refused the option to ambush Gabriel Agreste in his sleep. It was unethical and disingenuous; two things she fought against regularly. To use such methods as a way to win would dishonour everything else she and Chat Noir had done in their entire hero careers. They had started this war as heroes and they’d end it as heroes.

“Is it pride?” Félix asked and Ladybug carefully took a long, calming breath before replying.

“In part. Not that there’s something wrong with being proud of something positive. Mostly it’s being a role model though. For a lot of people Chat and I are role models and idols, especially towards children. If it comes out that Gabriel has been hypnotised in some form to give up his Miraculous, then the message we’d send would be to use magic to solve your problems.”

“How would that even come out?”

“In the Court case or in interviews as soon as he states to not remember the incident. Think about the class and how they don’t remember the things Lila manipulated them to do. It’s almost like they had been sleepwalking during those incidents and everything they did during the manipulation slipped their minds as easily as most dreams do. Gabriel wouldn’t remember the incident and while we could twist it and say it was the Butterfly Miraculous, that would not only be a lie, but it would also leave me and Chat with the knowledge of what really happened. I don’t want to have to guard another secret for the rest of my life that will eat away at me and while I could go on, this is reason enough for me not to do it.”

Félix sighed. “I see your point. Actually fighting him involves the risk of losing though and if we lose…”

“We won’t lose,” Ladybug said with as much conviction as a declaration of war. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Wednesday night, after Marinette’s brief conversation with Félix, was the first night since they imprisoned Lila that Marinette stepped out into the corridor once more. While she had asked Duusu to securely lock her door for absolutely everyone, she felt the need to see this place again. She needed sleep, but a short peek at the corridor wouldn’t hurt. 

Félix’s door was still right across from hers and she couldn’t help but think about what Adrien had said. Even if she didn’t believe in soulmates, it was still a strange coincidence that the person who had caused her dream door’s sign to change her love life status to _complicated_ was also the one whose door was across from hers. Following that thought, she turned around to check if her sign was still the same. Her love life status was. The rest though… 

> ** CURRENT LIFE STATUS **
> 
> Commissions: CLOSED
> 
> ~~Discounts: RETURNING CUSTOMERS ONLY~~
> 
> Requests: CLOSED
> 
> Love Life: IT'S COMPLICATED
> 
> Bakery Benefits: CLOSE FRIENDS ONLY
> 
> Interviews: CLOSED
> 
> Current State: OVERWHELMED/ DREAMING

Maybe she should take that sign down. It was always brutally honest, revealing things that even _she_ didn’t consciously know—since when were her commissions closed? Her view then drifted to the mail slot, but when she pushed it open with a finger, no silver hamster climbed out to greet her. 

_Don’t cry_ , she told herself as she slowly withdrew her hand.

Marinette was about to reconsider her venture out into the corridor and go back to _real_ sleep but a noise made her whirl around. From almost two years of Akuma fights and getting used to her partner’s sneaky ways, she had managed to get rid of the habit of immediately cursing like a sailor when startled. Instead, she almost punched Félix in the face, but managed to stop herself at the last second.

“Will this become a theme?” He asked as she glared at him.

“What? You sneaking up on me and startling me to death? No idea, you tell me.”

“I wasn’t _attempting_ to startle you. In fact, I merely just came out of my door, only to be almost immediately assaulted.”

As if to illustrate his point, he closed his door back behind him and began to lock it—now five locks instead of four. 

“When did you upgrade your door?” She asked as she leaned against her own.

“Just tonight.”

“Is that why you’re out? Checking your new security measures?”

“Not really. And they’re less security measures than they are a courtesy, though I _do_ believe that I should probably think of something better. This system is a little impractical.”

Marinette regarded the locks, each looking more fantastical than the next and their keys could have as well been turned into some modern jewellery with all their swirls and imaginative forms.

“I don’t know, it worked quite well so far and you know what they say: don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

A small smile appeared on his face. 

“You might be right with that. The door isn’t my only reason for being out here tonight,” Félix said and looked down the corridor. “Claude promised to knock on my door the entire night if he has to if I don’t show up for the weekly get-together in his dream.” He rolled his eyes.

Marinette found herself giggling, knowing from past experience that this wasn’t just an empty threat. 

“Then have fun with that. I think I’ll just go back to sleep for tonight; the more I get of that the better.”

“Wait,” Félix said and she halted in the motion of turning around. “Before you go, I wanted to give you something.”

He was rummaging around in one of his pockets before pulling out a key with the top part shaped like a crescent moon, swirls of silver twirling inside it and a hollow star hanging from its top end. It took her a moment to realise that she hadn’t seen this key before and she quickly counted two and two together.

“The key to the new lock on your door?”

Félix nodded. “Claude, Allegra and Allen each have a key to one of the locks, so I thought it fair to give you one too. You know, to…uh…make it official.”

She had never heard Félix stammer before, nor seen him nervously fidget in place. In that moment she could see his eerie resemblance to Adrien once more, but she quickly erased that thought to instead tilt her head.

“To make what official?” 

Félix awkwardly coughed into his fist and looked away—was he _blushing_?!

“That we’re friends. Apologies, I assumed it was obvious.”

Marinette couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. Seeing Félix _this_ nervous and awkward was certainly a first, especially over something he considered serious.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure,” she said and finally took the key. It was light in her hand and, just as expected, cold to the touch. “How exactly does it work? Doesn’t it disappear?”

Félix shook his head. “Not when its very purpose is to persist and be available to you when you need to use it,” he said and then turned to the side of the corridor with Claude’s door. “With that said, I don’t want to keep you from resting any longer. If you ever need to contact me in a dream again, you now have a safe way to do it.”

Marinette smiled. “That also works the other way around. Just knock if you want something, but I would have to invite you in—there are quite high security measures on my door now, you know.”

“As there should be,” he chuckled and then turned to leave. 

“Good night Félix,” she said and opened her door once more.

“Sweet dreams, Marinette,” she heard him say before pink wood closed behind her and she stepped back into nighttime Paris, free of noise, foul smells, or other disturbances.

It had been five days since she had stood in front of the school at an ungodly hour and had dreaded going in. On the evening of that same day, Chat Noir had persistently nagged Félix about choosing a superhero name, which he had continued to refuse and which had earned him the very simple nickname of just ‘Fox.’

It had been four days since she had given her parents the Turtle and the Bee Miraculouses.

It had been three days since the first training session with her parents and since she had argued her moral stance on the upcoming fight to Félix.

It had been two days and half a night since Félix had given her a key to his dream door.

It had been one day since Félix had conjured up an illusion that was convincing enough to even fool her and Chat Noir.

It had been one hour since today’s secret training session had ended and she had sent everyone home.

Ladybug sat on the edge of the topmost platform of the Eiffel Tower and watched her city of lights that stretched out below. Chat Noir sat next to her, just as silent, though _his_ gaze was fixed on the stars above that she couldn’t see but he could.

“Tomorrow then?” She said eventually, not once looking up or turning her head.

Chat Noir didn’t move either, but replied nonetheless. 

“Tomorrow,” he confirmed.

They hadn’t said anything until this point, but the few glances they had sent each other during training when judging the progress of the three temporary holders had been enough already. Their partnership was such a well-oiled machine at this point that they didn’t need words, they just _knew_. One single delayed reaction on her part and a resulting hit in the side had been all it had taken for them both to realise that the colder temperatures were starting to slow her down, which meant that they couldn’t risk to wait any longer.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” She still asked.

“No. You?”

Ladybug grinned. “Nope.”

“We’re all as ready as we’ll ever be, so let’s not drag this out unnecessarily. It’s time to end Hawkmoth’s reign over our city once and for all, m’lady.”

“That’s right, Chaton. Let’s make Gabriel Agreste regret he ever picked up the Butterfly Miraculous in the first place.”

“And free Madame Agreste.”

Ladybug did turn around to him then. His eyes were on her, serious, sad and hopeful all at once.

“Wait, but I thought she’s dead?”

“Not quite. Let’s just say we should be ready to call an ambulance as soon as we get the Butterfly Miraculous. She’s in a coma.”

“How do you know that?”

Chat Noir threw her a wry smile.

“Marinette and Félix aren’t the only ones that were interested in Gabriel Agreste’s dreams. It’s just another reason to not drag it out. There are some people who desperately need closure about Emilie Agreste’s disappearance.”

“Adrien,” Ladybug whispered.

“Yeah, and his aunt. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”

There they were, just two teenagers, granted godly powers by chance, taking in the calm before the storm. It felt like they existed in between chaos and peace at once, oddly fitting and very grounding.

Ladybug leaned on him with a sigh.

“You and me against the world, right?” She said, the first time he had uttered the words coming to mind again—Heroes’ Day seemed like an eternity ago at this point.

“Always,” Chat Noir replied and she could more feel than hear the quiet purr.

It was sad to think that this era was ending, but on the other hand it was good that it did. Paris needed as much of a breather as they did…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but throw in some sneaky LadyNoir at the end there because I'm a sucker for platonic LadyNoir ❤️
> 
> I literally wrote tomorrow's chapter today and it's not betaed yet. I'll do my very best to get the next 3 chapters out in time, but please don't be mad at me if some of them happen to be a little late. 😅
> 
> Have a picture of Hammy as an apology in advance! ;w;


	28. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm losing my f***ing mind at this point. Tomorrow's chapter isn't finished yet because I can't write fighting scenes and I hate everything ;n;

Saturday morning dawned with a new message on his phone.

> `**Marinette:** operation foxtrot is a go`
> 
> `get to my place at 9`

Félix sighed. She really shouldn’t have allowed Chat Noir to give the different parts of their battle plan code names.

> `**Félix:** I still resent that operation name`
> 
> `**Marinette:** deal with it :p`

His mother had already left for work, despite it being Saturday, which served him just fine. This way, he didn’t need to make an excuse for his absence, though he very well could have said he was with Marinette and her family—it wouldn’t even be a lie. Preparing himself a cup of tea, Félix stared out the window and noted the dark clouds. Would it rain? God, he hoped not! If anything could make fighting Hawkmoth worse, then it would be fighting him _in the_ _rain_.

> `**Félix:** Are you certain that today is the ideal day for this?`
> 
> `**Marinette:** what? you wanna do this on a _school day_ instead or have the following day be a school day?`
> 
> `**Félix:** Then why didn’t you mention it yesterday?`
> 
> `**Marinette:** because it was a spontaneous decision`
> 
> `**Félix:** You can’t just make something like this a _spontaneous_ decision!`
> 
> `**Marinette:** we just did`
> 
> `and all previous undertakings of this nature have been spontaneous so far. It’s just how we operate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯`
> 
> `**Félix:** You seem surprisingly calm considering the situation.`
> 
> `**Marinette:** appearances are deceiving ✨ I’m nearly dying from nerves trust me 🙃`

Thirty minutes later he sat on Marinette’s chaise longue and watched the living version of “jittery” pace up and down the room.

“Let’s go over it again, just to be sure. So first–” 

He interrupted her with a heavy sigh. 

“No offense, Marinette, but I _know_ my part in the plan more than well enough by now. A _fourth_ rundown would be redundant.”

She gave a short hysterical laugh. “Right. Of course. Then…uh…”

“You’re procrastinating. Not that I can hold it against you, I’m nervous as well, but you still need to give your parents their Miraculouses and clue them in. Besides, haven't you decided on a time for this entire thing to start with Chat Noir?”

She cringed and shrugged. “Not really. We’re aiming for the early afternoon but left enough room for adjustments in case it needs to be earlier or later.”

“You weren’t kidding about being spontaneous.”

An embarrassed blush spread over her face and she wrung her hands. “We’re just not used to choosing our own time for a battle. Usually we’re thrown into those things from one moment to the next so we’re better at coming up with plans on the spot rather than planning anything in advance.”

“I see. You’re good strategists but specialised in other forms of battle.”

Marinette sighed and learned against the stairs to her loft bed.

“Am I doing this all wrong? Maybe we should wait after all and plan and train more.”

“No, Marinette, you realised that time is of the essence and acted on it. You did everything right,” Tikki said from where she was nibbling on a cookie on the desk.

“Is time _that_ much of the essence? What speaks against moving it to next Saturday if you feel like today is too short a notice?”

“The cold,” she said and visibly cringed. “The lower it drops, the slower it makes me. It should affect Gabriel Agreste as well—butterflies hibernate—but since he stays inside all the time, it might not affect him. Winter Akumas are definitely as strong as summer Akumas, if that’s any indication.”

Félix frowned grimly. “So, in other words, the longer we wait, the bigger our disadvantage becomes.” 

“Pretty much.”

A small cough came from the desk space where the kwamis were sitting and munching their respective treats in their own preparation for battle. 

“If I may,” the bee kwami said and waited for Marinette to nod before continuing, “For someone who is used to making up plans in the actual course of battle, your current plan is very well thought-out. I’m sure it’ll work when most, if not all, variables we considered apply.”

Trixx snickered. “It all depends on my kit and me in the end. After that, things will be child’s play for you other four.”

“No pressure then,” Félix muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Félix couldn’t claim to be used to being on rooftops by now, but he could safely say that a magical suit that saved him from fall-damage really went a long way in making him feel more secure. Alas, with Trixx down in the mansion he didn’t have that luxury right now. Instead, he was stuck on the roof of the Agreste mansion with Chat Noir, while Marinette and her parents were hiding somewhere on other rooftops or in alleys—he wasn’t really sure.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t let your kwami participate in this part of the plan,” Félix remarked, making Chat Noir look up from his baton where he had checked some details of the security system.

“Because the last time Plagg was let loose on Paris, he almost took half of it down,” the hero replied soberly. “As much as he’d love to destroy every camera in the house, he’d probably bring the entire mansion down with it.”

“I can see why that would be inconvenient.”

Chat Noir snorted. “That’s _one_ way to put it. You sure you can pull this off by the way?”

Félix rolled his eyes. “Enraging Uncle to the point of explosive irrationality? No doubt.”

When the hero nodded and let silence fall upon them once more, Félix decided to throw an annoyed glance at the clouds. The weather forecast had _claimed_ there would be no rain but from years of experience he had learned to distrust such notions. Then again, that had been England and this was France. Perhaps such predictions actually applied here—he certainly hoped they did.

His ponderings about meteorological conditions and the accuracy of forecasts were interrupted by a hesitant cough. 

“I’m sorry by the way,” Chat Noir said. He must have noticed Félix’s confusion as he quickly continued. “About what I said last month. Even if you wouldn’t have had any friends, it wasn’t fair from me to mock you for it. I was just…”

“It’s fine,” Félix said. “After all, I didn’t quite behave in a way that suggested otherwise, so you can’t be blamed for assuming as much. I suppose we were both a little too emotional that day, though I certainly have more to apologize for in that regard than you have. So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

Chat Noir grinned. “Glad to have cleared that up.”

“Waiting ‘til the last minute, huh?” Félix couldn’t help but tease a little. 

In the last week he had found out just how many sides there were to simple mischief and Trixx encouraged and even demanded quite a lot in that regard. Giving his misgivings with Chat Noir a shape in the form of teasing remarks had turned into a habit before long and he shouldn’t have been surprised that those slipped out even without Trixx’s influence.

“This is the first time we actually got to talk with no one else around.”

“Understandable. It’s difficult to admit one’s own flaws, even more so in front of others.”

Félix knew the feeling only too well. What he also suspected, however, was that Chat Noir most of all didn’t want to admit to any flaws in Ladybug’s presence. It was subtler now than what he had seen in early videos of the two, but the feline superhero still very much tried to impress his spotted partner in any way he could. Perhaps it was even an underlying nature of his Miraculous, like the mischief was for Félix.

Speaking of the Fox Miraculous, it was at this moment that Trixx phased through the roof, right in time to prevent an awkward silence from descending.

“Aaaand we’re set!” They declared proudly.

“You sure you got all of them?” Chat Noir asked.

“Very sure. Tikki and Wayzz checked ten times!”

Félix frowned. “And you didn’t?” 

“I supposed thrice was enough,” Trixx said with a shrug.

“Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Nope! Things will go according to plan from here. Just wait for Ladybug’s signal.”

Félix took a deep breath and tried to ignore his nerves. As easy as he said it would be to enrage Uncle, it was unsettling how much of the further plans depended on his success.

“Trixx, Let’s Pounce.”

No matter how often he did it, the feeling of his clothes getting replaced by a magically fitted suit remained an odd one. He immediately felt more secure on the roof though, which might in equal parts be due to the security of no fall damage and the new sense of balance the suit brought along with it. The flute—set apart from the black suit with its orange-white colour—was still a big irony to him, seeing how badly he usually failed to play the actual instrument. It had always been a great amusement to Allegra to see him try and fail at the few times that had happened. How fortunate that no prior skill was needed for a _magic_ flute and how it could double as a physical weapon in case he needed it to. Still, as a musician himself, he couldn’t help but dispraise how it felt like cheating. He had seen Allegra practice for hours with her flute, so for him to be able to play it with no prior skills left a sour taste in his mouth. Félix now took that very flute and let it produce an earpiece from one end—he had no idea how exactly that worked on a technical level while remaining a functional flute, but it worked and was wasn’t gonna question magic—just like they had used during the training that week.

“See you on the other side, Fox,” Chat Noir said with a grin and a two-finger-salute, before jumping down to perch on a lower part of the roof close to the entrance door. 

Now all that was left was for him to succeed in pissing off his Uncle. Child’s play, right?

It always surprised him anew how utterly devoid of life the mansion was, as he certainly didn’t remember it like this from his childhood days. Whatever his Uncle had done, they’d press for monetary charges at Court and renovate the place with the money. But for that, a couple more steps needed to be taken. 

Félix stood hidden behind one of the pillars in the entrance hall, silent as the shadows that gave him cover and waited. The anticipation was surprisingly bearable though, perhaps because he looked forward to the part that would soon follow.

“Nathalie is neutralised,” Ladybug’s voice suddenly came through the earpiece. 

Good, that meant that part two of the precautions had been a success.

“Gabriel is still in his office. Go ahead, Fox,” Chat Noir said and Félix moved.

First, he noiselessly walked over to the front door to open it. Then he marched towards the office—not being especially noisy, but just loud enough to make it sound like someone had just come through the front door.

_Showtime,_ Félix thought before knocking on his uncle’s office door.

“Not now,” came the muffled reply from within, sounding annoyed.

Taking that as his invitation, Félix grabbed the flute, pushed down the door handle and quickly played a short, quiet note.

“Are you sure, Uncle?” A replica of himself asked arrogantly as the illusion stepped through the door.

Félix, meanwhile, had cloaked himself in a second, simultaneous illusion that made him invisible and thus able to step into the room as well.

“Félix.” Uncle, just as expected, didn’t sound pleased. “How did you get in here?” 

“The front door, like most people would,” his replica replied.

“I’m busy with work right now. Leave!”

Illusion-Félix grinned. “Why so irritated, Uncle? Is there something you _lost_? A brooch and a ring perhaps?”

Félix couldn’t suppress a grin of his own as the typical glacier-glare was thrown at his double. His plan was working perfectly.

“You have no idea what you actually stole.”

“Oh, I don’t?” Illusion-Félix asked with an even wider grin. “That’s not a bet you want to take, trust me. After all, a certain deity clued me in just fine.” 

He realised that his uncle seemed to want to interject, so he just ploughed on—there was a time limit after all. 

“Say, Uncle, how many people do you think would kill to get their hands on this?” Félix let the illusion pull the Peacock Miraculous out of the pocket. “What do you think _I_ can do now that I got my hands on it? Or even better: what would the _police_ and the local superheroes do if they knew you were _once_ in possession of it?”

He knew he was laying it on a little thick, but he only had two, maybe three, minutes left at this point. If he ran out of time before luring Uncle outside, their entire plan would fail.

“You’ll return it at once!” His uncle thundered.

That sounded promising.

Félix’s illusion scoffed. “I’m not your son to command around like a mindless puppet. Now here’s a thought: why don’t you do something _by yourself_ for once? Prove to me that you’re not completely incompetent?”

His uncle actually came out from behind his desk and was advancing at a brisk pace now. Perfect.

“If you want it back so badly, and the ring too,” his illusion said with a malicious grin, holding up the hand with the stolen twin ring. “Then come and get them!”

With only the barest nudge of his mind, Félix commanded the illusion to run out of the office. Right behind it was his uncle in hot pursuit. Félix was behind them and felt the incessant flashing of his necklace that indicated that he was almost out of time. 

Things went quickly after that. As soon as Gabriel Agreste practically leapt outside through the wide-open front door, Félix slammed it shut, dissolving his illusion of invisibility in the process. He suppressed the urge to swear when he ran back to the office where he knew the security panel was. Just as he entered through the door, his transformation dissolved.

“Alright, time to lie to modern technology. Are you sure this is going to work, Trixx?”

The fox kwami rolled their eyes. “Do you have any idea _who_ you’re talking to, kit?”

They touched a glowing paw to the touch screen while Félix waited with bated breath and nervous glances to the front door. The satisfying beep from the security panel might as well have been a victory fanfare in his mind, followed by the loud slams of the shutters going down all around the house.

With the detransformation Félix had also lost the earpiece, so he didn’t know if it had worked how they hoped it would, but at least his part of the plan had ended with this. He rummaged around his pocket and pulled out a box filled to the brim with Trixx’s preferred treats. They more than deserved them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get that goddamn chapter out in time, don't you worry!


	29. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight and reveal!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I finished this chapter and I'm rather happy with it! :D  
> Gotta admit that I prioritized the plot to actually make it fitting to today's prompt in the prompt month. As I found out with this story, I'm not especially good when it comes to focusing on one sole dynamic throughout an entire story and include them in _every_ chapter. I tried my best, but for the sake of the plot, some small sacrifices had to be made here.

Ladybug was perched over the front door of the mansion, her partner as well was just on the other side. While her view was currently laser-focused on the entrance, she had thrown him a glance a minute or so ago and if he hadn’t moved since that time, then Chat Noir still looked like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey. She let out a steady breath and clutched her yo-yo tighter when the voices from inside the entrance hall got louder. It was just a question of seconds now and Ladybug counted them down in her head.

Three.

The steps got closer.

Two. 

Félix’s illusion-double ran out of the mansion.

One.

Gabriel stormed out of the house after it.

Zero.

Accompanied by the sound of the front door slamming shut, Ladybug and Chat Noir pounced, weapons at the ready and blocking Gabriel’s way back in.

He only seemed to notice that something was off when the illusion disappeared into fog and then he turned around to them.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel Agreste growled, obviously angry but apparently still trying to keep up the illusion of not being a supervillain.

“Do you really need us to spell it out for you?” Chat Noir hissed darkly and Ladybug had to forcefully suppress the association to Chat Blanc at the sound. It was near identical.

“Gabriel Agreste, you’re under arrest for magical terrorism,” she said, her voice steady and strong. “Surrender the Butterfly Miraculous willingly or things will get ugly.”

They had learned from Heroes’ Day. There was no appealing to common sense and reason with this man, so they weren’t naïve enough anymore to believe that he’d actually follow through on the request. Still, she had had to say it, if only for her own inner peace. Knowing she had tried to give him a peaceful option first would make it easier to fight him—and make for a better argument in court too.

Gabriel surprised her—then again, was it really a surprise?—when he started howling with malevolent laughter all of a sudden, giving off an evil grin that would haunt her nightmares. She was startled out of the moment when a loud metallic sound suddenly echoed behind them and Ladybug briefly turned around to see the shutters fall closed all around the mansion. Good, Félix had done it.

Being distracted in a fight, even for the briefest time, could be costly though. In the short second she had looked away, Gabriel had transformed and was advancing on her. Fast.

Ladybug was in the process of dodging and wouldn’t have made it if silver hadn’t glistened in her peripheral vision. She couldn’t tell if it was Chat Noir’s baton or Hawkmoth’s sword before the two of them collided, but she was eternally grateful for her partner’s quick reaction. 

She jumped back, out of range, reorienting herself.

The mansion was completely barricaded with no way in or out of it, meaning that Hawkmoth was cut off from wherever he stored the butterflies. No butterflies meant no Akumas, so that was good. It also meant no traps or other unpleasant surprises that he might have installed in or around his lair.

In the two seconds it had taken her to evaluate the entire situation, her partner had gone from simply defending to the offensive. After Heroes’ Day, Chat Noir had tirelessly, almost obsessively, practiced how to fight off and parry a sword with his baton. His training really paid off now, painting a thoroughly different picture than a few months ago. Ladybug couldn’t see any nicks or scratches on him yet, which she took as a good sign. He had managed to push Hawkmoth back, both of them almost at the wall surrounding the mansion now when she finally finished her analysis of how good their chances were in this fight and how long they’d be able to keep it up. 

Ladybug rushed forward, catching Hawkmoth’s sword with her yo-yo and thus diverting a blow that Chat Noir would have had trouble deflecting. Before Hawkmoth could make a grab for her weapon though, she retracted it once more and took a fighting stance next to her partner, ready for whatever the next attack would be.

It was at this moment that Hawkmoth seemed to realise their difference in skill level when compared to the last battle and that he, without backup from Mayura or an Akuma, was at a disadvantage in this fight. With the way into the mansion blocked and with it being two against one, though, there was only one way he could run.

Green shapes flared to life as he attempted to jump over the mansion wall onto the Parisian streets and he fell back. Ladybug didn’t look up, but knew that the green dome would be all around the property, trapping all of them in and making escape impossible. And the best part? There was no time limit.

Contrary to what she had hoped, Hawkmoth didn’t land in a way that would give them an opening, but rather on two legs, turning around to them with a furious snarl once more. They had trapped him and they all knew it.

“You may think you have won but–” 

Ladybug interrupted him by catching his legs with her yo-yo and, with an act of strength only her Miraculous could grant her, swung Hawkmoth so that he crashed against the metal shutters of his inaccessible house.

“Quit the dramatics,” Ladybug said. Then again, if villainous monologues—or was it dialogues in this case?—kept giving them openings, then he could continue for all she cared.

“You don’t _understand!_ ” Hawkmoth seethed.

“We understand enough to know that you’re delusional,” Chat Noir said coldly.

Hawkmoth charged forward once more with renewed vigor and her partner barely managed to dodge, the rapier leaving a shallow scratch on his cheek.

“You have no idea–” Hawkmoth said again, but only got a baton into the gut for his efforts.

“We know about your wife and the wish,” Chat Noir said and for the barest moment she saw anger and sorrow in his eyes. “You know about the price, don’t you?!”

Hawkmoth growled and lunged again, only to be caught by Ladybug’s yo-yo once more.

“Of course I know! It doesn’t matter!”

If only she could get close enough to him to punch him in the face without getting stabbed. Judging by his expression and the growl, Chat Noir had a similar idea.

_Don’t get aggravated. Just draw his attention,_ she reminded herself and threw her partner a look that relayed the same message.

She saw how his fists clenched around the baton, but a grimness in his eyes told her that he had understood.

_Stick to the plan._

Hawkmoth bounded forward once again, and this time she only narrowly managed to dodge the rapier before it would have impaled her left arm. 

Crouch, leap, toss, pull, dodge.

It went on like that for a while without a real end in sight, except there _was_. She and Chat Noir both kept up the charade of trying to get the upper hand, while instead, they just worked on pushing Hawkmoth into a specific location.

He took two steps back for every step that they advanced and despite their plan, despite knowing that victory was in reach, Ladybug didn’t make the mistake of getting cocky. Hawkmoth was still one of the most difficult opponents they had ever faced, emotional baggage included as she still worried about Adrien, and she wasn’t crazy enough to take any of it lightly. Their progress was slow, but it was steady and unyielding. Their careful concentration and resolute attitudes were no play either, but they, too, were part of the plan. 

With no indication that something might be off, Hawkmoth obliviously backed around the corner, still fighting off Chat Noir’s baton and her yo-yo.

Then it happened.

All of a sudden, Hawkmoth froze. _Literally_ froze.

It was over.

With the trompo still raised, her mother stepped out from her hiding place behind the corner of the house.

“Threat neutralised,” she said with a grin.

Ladybug didn’t dare to breathe a sigh of relief yet, but she could at least admit to feel a little lighter already.

“Not yet, but almost,” she said and despite the momentous occasion couldn’t bring herself to grin victoriously. 

Whatever followed would be stressful and chaotic in a different way to Akumas, but equally impactful to her life, and especially Adrien’s life. Was it a joyous occasion or was it just sad to see one of her best friends lose the only parent they had left and be plunged into what would no doubt me months, if not even years, of false accusations thrown at him, simply for being related to a terrorist? No, this wouldn’t bring Adrien joy, but in order to let another horror end, there was no other step to take but forward.

She glanced at Chat Noir and found a deep understanding in his eyes that went beyond what words could express. Like so often, they were on the same page with their trains of thought.

“Together?” He prompted softly, almost shy.

Ladybug nodded and stretched her hand out, closing it around the butterfly pin and Chat Noir put his hand atop of hers. They pulled it off together, letting the image of Hawkmoth disappear one final time from their sights, from Paris, from the world, only leaving Gabriel Agreste in his place—a broken, most likely psychotic man that was beyond the help any people in his life could give him.

She glanced at the brooch in their cupped hands as a raindrop fell on it, quickly followed by others. A hand ran over her cheek and she raised her head up to see Chat Noir look at her with a mix of emotions that she couldn’t begin to describe but _understood_. It was only then that she realised that it wasn’t raining at all but that he was wiping away her tears.

Ladybug closed her fist around the Butterfly Miraculous and without a word of warning—none was needed—she hugged her partner and he clutched her back. If her mother—she was detaining the still frozen Gabriel with her trompo—or her father—carrying a handcuffed Nathalie down from the roof where they had hid her—noticed Chat’s shoulders shaking or her quiet sniffles, they didn’t say anything.

Their fight was truly over now.

Arrests had been made, interviews had been given and actual rain had eventually started falling. Since neither Ladybug or Chat Noir had used their powers, they had stayed transformed during all of that, managing the situation to the best of their abilities. Before the authorities had arrived at the mansion, she had told her parents to go back home and that she’d get the Miraculouses later. She had told Félix a similar thing after he had deactivated the security system again and said to just go to her place.

In the post-battle jitters and the sheer _relief_ that the Butterfly Miraculous was in safe hands once more, she had overlooked one major detail though: _her place_ meant _her civilian identity’s place_.

Chat Noir was, to say the least, conflicted about the whole thing. No matter how much he tried to hide his anxiety, the lashing tail said enough about his mood to clue her in. So, after everything had been said and done, Ladybug and Chat Noir took to the rooftops, far away from the reporters that tried chasing them. At first, both said nothing, but eventually the silence grew too loud to bear.

“He knows you?” Chat Noir asked.

For a question that had no doubt eaten at him for the last two hours, it had come out surprisingly quiet, merely a breath rather than words.

Ladybug stopped, only a few rooftops away from her balcony, and let the rain fall. Both of them were dripping-wet at this point and would probably catch colds from the late-October rain if they didn’t get inside and warm soon, but she couldn’t really care at this moment. Her partner was hurting and she’d risk a thousand colds if it meant to help him.

“It was a stupid accident and completely my fault,” 

While Ladybug would have loved to inspect the detail of the roof tiles she was standing on while she said that, she forced herself to look Chat Noir in the eyes instead.

“How long?”

She took caution not to bite her lip, but still couldn’t help the sorrow she felt that inevitably reflected through her eyes—she wasn’t the best at visibly locking her emotions away. 

“Two weeks.”

Only the sound of rain echoed in the space between them. At least it did before a sob interrupted the silence. It was too much at once, especially for this day.

“I…” She started, unsuccessfully trying to blink tears away. “I wanted you to know first. For almost two years we’ve been doing this and if it wouldn’t have been for that stupid alternate timeline I would have told you _months_ ago! As soon as I became the Guardian I wanted to tell you because I _need_ you right next to me, Chaton. But Bunnyx showed me a future where you were akumatised and the world…it was destroyed.”

She looked away then.

“It haunts me. You were all alone and everyone…everyone was just…gone.” She whispered the last word. “I swore I wouldn’t ever let that happen to you or the world, so I bore the Guardian title alone and everything that came with it. I couldn’t tell you that Félix found out because you’d have asked how and if I’d have told you, you’d have figured me out. And even if I wouldn’t have told you, you’d have had doubts because _I know you_ and I was _terrified_ that _that_ could be the trigger that pushed you over the edge. I couldn’t risk it until after we defeated Hawkmoth and now…now here we are.”

Her throat hurt from the tears and she gave up on trying to suppress the sobs now. 

Ladybug wasn’t sure if it was a surprise or not when safe, familiar arms wrapped around her in a comforting hug. She felt horrible about it. There she was, finally telling him the reasons for her secrecy now that everything was over in a desperate attempt to make him understand and let the truth be a comfort and yet _he_ was comforting _her._ Why did she have to be such an emotional mess?

“It’s okay m’lady. I understand,” he eventually said calmly. “You just tried to protect everyone, like you always do.”

She nodded into his neck. “I tried to protect _you,_ ” she said, her voice slightly muffled and on top of it scratchy. “I care about you too much to ever let you get to the point of no return. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but didn’t know how to.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It was just a stupid accident, like you said.”

She nodded again and let her tears mix with the rain while listening to Chat Noir’s soothing purr. 

After what must have been at least a few minutes, her sobs eventually subsided, glad to have been let out at last after months of being repressed. 

When she ended the hug she was about to apologize but then thought better of it. There was no reason anymore to apologize for her pain, as no butterfly would ever come after her, nor anyone else in Paris ever again. Instead, she smiled and held out her hand for him to take.

“Come on, let’s go home and warm up. There’s a hoodie I was meaning to give you for Christmas, but you can have it now already.”

Chat Noir’s eyes went wide as saucers.

“Y-you mean to _your place_? And d-detransformed?”

Her smile deepened.

“We’ve waited long enough for this, haven’t we? Besides, I think we both deserve a hot chocolate after today.”

He laughed, a pure joyous laugh that she knew from games of tag on patrol nights or on the few occasions where she had told him jokes or puns.

“Lead the way, m’lady.”

She grinned, as _the way_ was only a couple of jumps over half a block of rooftops until they finally landed on her balcony in what seemed like no time at all. All of a sudden, nerves crashed back over her like a tidal wave. This was a space for Marinette to occupy, not Ladybug. It was where she had taught Chat Noir how to knit, where she sat for hours to perfect a design and where she returned to her civilian life once more after battles. Standing here transformed, especially with Chat Noir, had only happened during battles before, which might be where her nerves stemmed from.

“Are we collecting the Miraculouses first?” Her partner asked as he perched on the railing, his head tilted.

“S-something like that,” she said.

It was starting to get dark, still raining and Chat Noir would, eventually, need to go home too. Was it really the best time for a reveal? Shouldn’t it be a momentous occasion under not-starlit Paris, maybe on the Eiffel Tower even, instead of when they were both dripping wet, freezing and still restless from battle?

Her decision was made for her when the skylight opened behind her and she instantly whirled around.

Félix was peeking out at them with skeptically raised eyebrows, Trixx sitting on his shoulder. The kwami gave both of them a knowing grin before snickering and flying down into the room. That was also about the time Ladybug needed to process the situation and start screeching.

“Get off my bed!”

Neither Félix nor Chat Noir seemed to have expected that response and their reactions to it were surprisingly similar. Her partner almost fell off the banister while Félix didn’t even think about arguing about the topic and briskly back-tracked, almost falling down the loft stairs in his haste.

“Come in,” she told Chat Noir who seemed torn between shocked and starstruck.

This was _really not_ how she had expected their identity reveal to go. Without further ado, she dropped through the open skylight, hoping that not too much water would fall on her bedsheets—oh who cared, she’d change them later anyway! 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,” Félix said as soon as she walked down the steps to her main room. He was awkwardly standing by her desk and seemed not quite sure what to do with the situation.

“Nevermind that. Can you get us a few towels? They should be in that wardrobe over there,” she said and pointed into a corner of her room—she had finally gotten a proper wardrobe a couple months ago.

A look up told her that Chat Noir had finally managed to get through the sky light as well, had closed it and was now standing on her loft, dropping on the wood.

“Come down, alley cat, no one’s gonna bi— _NOT THAT ONE!_ ”

She hurried over to her wardrobe. Félix had gotten _dangerously close_ to opening her underwear drawer. “Forget it, I’m gonna do it myself,” she said, opened the right drawer and produced two fluffy towels. 

For a moment it seemed like Félix was about to comment on her shaky hands but one look shut him up. She was nervous enough already without his input, even if it stemmed from worry.

“Here,” she said and threw Chat Noir one of the towels. “I…uh…I guess it’s obvious now, huh?”

There was no doubt in her mind that the smile stretching on her face at this moment was thoroughly awkward, but she just couldn’t help it. To be Ladybug in her room with Chat Noir _and_ Félix there let a few too many parts of her life collide that had so far been neatly separated and it was, to quote Félix, absolutely _overwhelming_.

“Spots Off,” she mumbled, hoping it would at least ease the situation a little.

Marinette thanked the high heavens that the rain water on her suit seemed to have disappeared with it, only leaving her hair wet which she quickly fixed with the pink towel.

“I’m sorry. This really could’ve gone over better,” she said awkwardly while looking at the partner who was still dripping on the floor—now on her carpet—and looking at the towel as if it held some kind of mystery.

“Well,” Félix said, drawing both of their attention to him. “ _Three’s a crowd_ like Claude would say, so I’ll leave you two to sort this out and return when you’re done.”

He was about to open the hatch when Chat Noir spoke up.

“No, wait! It’s okay, I…this is fine, I don’t mind,” he said, looking back and forth between Félix, her and the towell.

“Are you sure? Félix could go up on the balcony for a few minutes,” she said, earning an incredulous look from the blond in question.

“Excuse you?! It’s raining buckets out there!”

“Penitence. Remember?” The retorted with a grin, making Chat Noir slightly smile as well.

“I’m sure,” he said, his smile turning into somewhat of a grimace. “After all, this is kind of a family matter, I guess.”

Marinette furrowed her brow, but before she could even attempt to decipher the insinuation, the words “Claws In” created a lightshow that made her shield her eyes. When she had blinked the spots out of her vision she was looking, no, _staring,_ at _Adrien Agreste._

“Surprise?” _Adrien_ asked sheepishly.

That was _indeed_ a surprise! The kind of surprise characters from a dramatised cartoon might faint at or spit water out that they had just drunk. Marinette found herself opening and closing her mouth, unable to form words for a moment while Félix ran a hand over his face and groaned.

“You have to be bloody kidding me.”

She could see the moment where Adrien wanted to shrink down and hide, but kept up a facade and awkwardly smiled on. Because he was Chat Noir and she could read that boy’s mannerisms with both eyes closed. The fascinating fact that she could now read _Adrien_ like a book while she had trouble even _speaking_ to him before still needed to fully sink in when she moved and wrapped him in a tight hug.

Because it wasn’t just Adrien who had no home or family to return to, but also her Chaton who had fought his own father and given interviews about it for hours.

“Am I the only one who feels like an idiot for not realising it sooner?” He mumbled into her hair and she couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. This entire thing was just too ironic, especially when she considered both of their former crushes.

“Nope, that feeling is definitely mutual.”

“I’ll have to agree,” Félix said from where he was still standing by the hatch. “Especially as I jokingly entertained the idea for a moment after figuring out Marinette’s identity. What the everloving hell is wrong with this family?!”

Adrien snorted. “ _This_ is the last straw for you, Félix? _Really?_ ” 

Marinette ended the hug and Félix was about to say something when they were all interrupted by a black blur.

“Yeah, yeah, the kid’s family sucks, we get it,” Plagg said with a roll of his eyes, just as sarcastic as Marinette remembered him to be. “Speaking of family though,” he continued, narrowed his eyes and flew so close to Félix’s face that he had to take a step back. “ _You. Squished. My. Precious. Camembert!_ Prepare for a world of pain.”

“Plagg, please just let it go?” Adrien said, almost pleadingly, but the kwami of destruction was unyielding.

“No,” Plagg glowered. “He has to pay.”

Félix threw her a look between confusion and helplessness. “Aren’t you gonna do something? Or is this more penitence?”

Marinette shrugged. “If you offended Plagg, then I can’t help you.” 

“Either beg for forgiveness or buy him a month’s worth of stinky cheese,” Tikki suggested with a tired sigh.

Adrien suddenly gasped as something seemed to occur to him. “Wait, she said you figured out her identity two weeks ago.” He turned back to her. “It was the dreams, right?”

She sheepishly smiled and shrugged. “Guilty. My subconscious is very dangerous in that aspect.”

Adrien suddenly sneezed, which made her remember that, while dry now, he still only wore a t-shirt and an overshirt while his body was chilled to the bone. She walked back to her wardrobe to the section where she kept her finished self-made clothes and pulled out a neatly folded black hoodie.

“Tada! Just as promised,” she said as she unfolded it—it had the words ‘you’ve got to be kitten me right meow’ stitched on it with the ‘O’s being paw prints. 

Just as expected, Adrien’s eyes lit up in glee and he let out a chirp of laughter as he read what the hoodie said. Before she knew what was happening, she and the hoodie were picked up from the ground in a tight hug.

“Thank you, m’lady. It’s _purr_ fect,” Adrien said and _actually purred_. She hadn’t known that he still could do that as a civilian. Then again, if the cold could slow her down even in her civilian life, then why shouldn’t he be able to purr?

When her feet made contact with the ground again, he was grinning and she just fondly rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair in a familiar gesture.

“You and your puns, I knew you’d love it,” she said with a grin. “Now let me see about getting those hot chocolates I promised.”

Two empty mugs of hot chocolate, one empty tea cup and one empty plate of cheese and cookies later, the mood had significantly dropped as the seriousness of the impending future caught up to them. The three of them sat on the chaise longue, Adrien on one end, Félix on the other and Marinette squeezed between the two of them.

“I…I don’t have a family anymore,” Adrien said and looked so sad that she wanted to hug him again.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Félix asked, sounding less offended than he probably was.

“But I’m just gonna live with you part-time until the court situation is handled, right? Mother is in the hospital, father will probably go to jail and…that leaves me with just you and Aunt Amélie, right?”

“I’m here too,” Marinette said and laid a hand on his knee. “And I’m not going anymore. You also have Kagami, Nino, Alya and the rest of our class.”

Adrien smiled faintly. “But…none of you are related so…”

“Not everyone starts out with a family, Adrien. Sometimes you need to find them, and you definitely found us,” she said with a smile.

“Is it…can it really work like that?”

“Of course it can. Even _I_ know that,” Félix said with a roll of his eyes.

“Besides,” Tikki added with a grin, “You consider Plagg your family too, right?”

“You better, kid! Or do you want to find mouldy cheese in your socks?!” 

Adrien choked out a laugh, the beginnings of tears shimmering in his eyes and suddenly both Marinette and Félix found themselves wrapped in a tight hug by him.

“Thank you,” he sobbed and now it was Marinette who soothingly rubbed his back and made calming shushing noises—she couldn’t purr like him after all.

If Félix felt uncomfortable in the hug he didn’t say anything nor made a move to extract himself from it. She found that she, strangely, didn’t mind the close proximity either. Funny how some things could change in just a few weeks of time.

It took some time until Adrien had cried himself out, giving both of them a sheepish but thankful smile.

“Now,” Marinette said and pulled the Butterfly Miraculous out of her pocket. “Speaking of found family, I think it’s time for yet another family reunion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a Felinette-centred story there isn't much Felinette in this chapter and I'm sorry about that. I thought it was important plot-wise to focus on the LadyNoir dynamic since I built up their partnership and understanding so strongly and I needed to lay some groundwork for the healing process Adrien no doubt has in front of him.
> 
> Next chapter will be kind of an epilogue. Haven't written a word of it yet, but unlike the last few chapters, I actually have a detailed outline for this one, so it should be easy! ~~(famous last words)~~


	30. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the very last chapter of _dream a little dream_ , taking place roughly 3 months after the happenings of the previous chapter. Have fun reading it! ❤️

A creak echoed through the entrance hall as the front door opened, offering some more daylight for the dusty, cold interior that hadn’t seen people since the police investigations had concluded. Félix could see how Adrien took a deep, steadying breath, a small cloud forming when he exhaled, which underlined just how abandoned the place had actually become.

“Ready?” Marinette asked quietly, an encouraging smile on her face.

It was the third time she had asked it this week and the previous two times, the answer had been ‘no.’ Everyone accepted this, giving Adrien all the time he needed to mentally prepare himself for this step. Out of the three times, this was the first time they had actually made it to the front door, while before they had turned tail at the front gates. 

Félix watched how Adrien battled with the need to appease others that he was still struggling with but was in therapy for—among many other things—and his own reluctance to take another step. Eventually, he nodded, squeezing both of their hands and earning reassuring squeezes back.

“Yeah. Let’s finally do this,” Adrien said and then, decidedly, made the first step into the mansion.

The noise, just like the opening of the door, echoed through the large empty room and for a moment it looked like his cousin was about to turn around again. A step forward from Marinette seemed to ground him enough to reconsider that thought. Not one to fall behind, Félix took a matching step as well and then waited for Adrien to take another. He needed to know that this happened on his terms, not theirs and that he could take all the time he needed while keeping their unwavering support.

They took a few more steps together like that before Adrien eventually let go of their hands and walked around on his own, inspecting specific details like the wilted flowers in a vase or the shape of the dust-covered banister.

“Does it feel like coming home?” Félix asked, though he already knew the answer.

Adrien shook his head. “No. Then again, it never really did.”

Félix cringed when the sound of heels clacked on the tiled floor behind them. His mother had seemingly taken Adrien’s free-roaming as permission to enter as well, just like she had waited to do for the entire week.

“Well, of course it doesn’t! This place looks absolutely soulless!” She complained and looked around with a critical eye and no small amount of disgust in her gaze. One might think she was attempting to destroy the black and white décor with her glare alone. “We’ll have to make major changes around here to make this place livable again!”

They had debated about moving back to London once the trials were over, especially since his mother’s movie was done by now and another contract awaited her in England. Félix, Marinette, as well as her parents and Adrien’s therapist had argued that another big change like that would be detrimental to Adrien’s progress. Adrien himself had only had small opinions, constantly trying to rationalise both sides and keeping himself a neutral party in a strive to avoid conflict. 

At the end of the day, they had decided to stay in Paris. Not only because Adrien had been granted partial ownership of the mansion—the other part going to Emilie who still lay in a coma and was taken care of in a nearby hospital—but also to let him keep his support network, which in no small amounts included Marinette.

When Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been arrested back in October and the newspapers had stumbled over each other to bring out the most scandalous and shocking headlines, most of them including Adrien, another small calamity had occurred. Tomoe Tsurugi, absolutely appalled by the reveal of the true nature of her daughter’s boyfriend’s father, had forced Kagami and Adrien to break up and had moved back to Japan to prevent shame being brought to her own family name. It had hit Adrien very hard in the midst of all the other chaos and if it hadn’t been for the Dupain-Chengs and their habit of practically adopting every child in need, Félix didn’t know what would have become of his cousin.

The trials that had followed had run for months with final decisions only being made shortly after New Year’s—jail time for both his uncle and Nathalie—but it still didn’t mean freedom. The press was relentless, even after Adrien had been cleared of all charges at one of the early trials. As Félix watched his cousin, he clearly saw the marks the last couple of months had left on him in the form of dark circles under his eyes, hopelessly tousled hair and non-designer clothes—the latter being the least problematic. Both good and bad changes had happened, but he at least hoped that things would mostly improve for all of them from here on out.

Speaking of changes, Félix’s view wandered over to Marinette who had joined his mother and was discussing colour palettes with her—he wasn’t sure if it was out of her passion for designs or just to keep his mother away from Adrien and not overwhelm him. After the forced breakup between Adrien and Kagami, she had been one of Adrien’s most constant supporters, together with him, Alya, and Nino. Despite this, she had never made a move, even when Adrien had confessed a month ago to finally be over love life troubles and that it would be nice to find someone again.

Félix had asked her about this reluctance of hers and Marinette’s only answer had been a shrug and an “apparently it’s complicated” for a while. Eventually, she had confessed to him her real reason. As it turned out, Adrien hadn’t been the only one who needed time to think and work through things. Marinette had admitted that his cousin was an amazing person, but that he needed friends right now first and foremost. She also felt that her love for him had been a little extreme, and obsessive in a way, at times and that she didn’t think that that was healthy—she was working through it with her own therapist.

Marinette had said that someday, she might love him romantically again, or maybe she wouldn’t. Perhaps—and that had baffled Félix the most—she didn’t even understand what romance was or what she wanted. To him, she had always seemed like someone with a plan, so hearing about her confusion on such a fundamental matter had made him, in turn, reevaluate his perception of her. 

In truth, Marinette was a girl that had gone through some of the hardest things someone could go through. She had fought life-threatening dangers, she had faced the hell of her friends turning against her for months and, most gruesome of all, she had seen death on a scale no one had ever seen before in a destroyed world that fortunately would never come to be now. After considering all of that, the thought of her being worried and confused about her love life of all things sounded both more normal and more outlandish than it ever had before. At least now she had the time to work through it without having to be afraid of purple butterflies or dream-manipulating liars anymore.

Speaking of Lila and their classmates, Félix still couldn’t help but let small satisfied grins stretch on his face from time to time at the thought of the liar. To see her power slip right through her hands like it had crumbled to dust had been one of the best things to come from all of this. Without her manipulation to back her up anymore, their classmates had lost interest in her tall tales—even called her out on some of them, to his great delight. In the end, Lila Rossi had faded into the background as not necessarily someone loathed, but someone that was generally distrusted. She was the classmate that everyone knew, but never really formed a connection with that went past _acquaintance_. If she were just a random girl, Félix might have pitied her, but she was responsible for the consequences of her own actions and would now just have to live with them. No one trusted a liar, even if they’d start to tell the truth, and that was a life lesson she had hopefully thoroughly learned by now.

His own connections to his classmates, unlike Lila’s, were slowly becoming steadier. He, too, had to live with the consequences of his past actions, though, and reap the distrust that he had sown all these months ago. Félix was hesitant to call any of them his _friends_ but he was at least on friendly terms with most of them by now which was more than he could have said back at the beginning.

When it came to his oldest friends, Claude had gone absolutely ballistic as soon as the news of Hawkmoth’s identity reveal had reached him and he had dragged Allegra and Allen on the first Eurostar with him to visit. It had been a chaotic short visit that had at first managed to thoroughly overwhelm both Marinette and Adrien in their mentally fragile states and which had required a lot of damage control from Félix and Allen to rein in the two more enthusiastic members of their friendship group. 

Once things had calmed down a little and both Marinette and Adrien had given their okay, the three Londoners had visited again, though this time with a much warmer reception and more success. As it had turned out, Marinette, Allegra and Alya were a force to be reckoned with when put together. To this day, Félix shuddered when he thought about the poor sod that had made a scathing comment about Adrien while they had been touring Paris. Marinette’s reaction alone might have been terrifying enough to make a grown man back away, but combined with Allegra’s cold fury and Alya’s unbridled rage, the guy had fled the scene on the spot.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Marinette’s voice brought him out of his thoughts.

She was talking to Adrien, who was staring at the door that had once led to his uncle’s office as if it was going to murder him. Félix never knew how she did it and it probably was the special connection the two shared from almost two years of fighting—he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much they must have bonded over witnessing horrifying and haunting things to blindly trust each other with their _lives_ —but with just a simple touch to his shoulder, she managed to snap Adrien out of whatever frightening memory had gripped him. He relaxed instantly, not even flinching, and then nodded.

The three of them climbed the stairs in the same way they had entered the mansion, with his mother trailing behind them and once even letting out a quiet, impatient sigh. When they eventually reached the first floor, Adrien breathed easier and they wandered the first hallway without much trouble. This corridor contained mostly guest rooms from what he could recall, which meant that Adrien hadn’t spent a lot of time in this part of the mansion and thus didn’t need to fight any recent memories.

They wandered down, opening the doors to the rooms and curiously looking through them. They were bland though, like hotel rooms, though with the addition of some books on bookshelves or pictures on the walls.

“I was thinking about taking one of the rooms,” Adrien thought out loud after a couple of minutes.

“Don’t you already have one?” Félix asked as he regarded the dusty credenza in front of them—they currently stood in what looked more like a living room than a bedroom. 

Adrien shrugged. “It’s way too big and I’d like to start anew.”

Félix nodded, understanding his cousin’s sentiment. He had always been of the opinion that a room with a full window wall offered fairly little privacy to begin with, so a _regular_ type of room might do Adrien some good. Especially after he had lived in a normal room in their apartment for three months now.

“Do any of the rooms have balconies?” Marinette asked from the hallway and they both wandered back outside.

“I think the room at the end of the hallway has one,” Adrien said.

“You could start a garden!” She said, glee sparking in her eyes and it drew a rare laugh out of Adrien.

“Knowing me, I’d overwater them and they’d be dead in a week,” he said as the three of them walked to the room in question.

“No worries, I’ll help. Hey, which room do you want Félix?” She suddenly asked and turned the full force of her smile on him.

It was a sweet sight, much more often seen than a similar kind of smile on Adrien’s face, but still rare in its own might. Few people got to see it these days, as months of distrust and years of fighting had hardened her to the world and its people. Only the ones that had wormed their way into her heart were deserving to be graced with such a gift and Félix considered himself fortunate to be among those lucky few.

He shrugged. “Whatever room is furthest away from the cheese gremlin,” he said when he was sure his mother was occupied at the other end of the hall.

Plagg peeked out of Adrien’s hood and glared at him. Even after buying the kwami cheese like Tikki had suggested, the god of destruction seemed to be a vengeful one and Félix had, in his eyes, committed the worst and most unforgivable crime imaginable. He had made peace with the fact that he’d probably never live it down to have once squished a piece of cheese under his cousin’s pillow.

Adrien snorted and then opened the door that was supposed to lead to all his hopes and dreams of an own living space. They were indeed greeted with a balcony and Marinette immediately made it her personal mission to inspect it in detail. 

“It’s facing south-east!” She gushed. “Oh, that’s perfect! The plants will get just enough sunlight but not too much and–”

She rattled off some more gardening facts and other perks of the cardinal point and the room while Félix watched how her eyes lit up in excitement at various ideas. It was such a stark contrast to when he had first met her, _really_ met her, where she had been in a state of near-constant exhaustion. While there were lots of things she needed to work through, the end of Akuma attacks alone, as well as the fall of Lila Rossi, had done _wonders_ to her ability to find peace and actually be able to take a break. It was amazing to see how far she had come in only a few months, especially as she had become more comfortable with her role as the new Guardian.

“Do you plan to renovate this room?” Félix asked Adrien while Marinette looked like she was contemplating the selection of future balcony plants. At the mention of renovations she looked up and turned back around to them though.

“Oh, definitely,” Adrien said with a small grin and slowly spun in place, taking in the room. “I’ll finally get to decide on something for myself.”

“Knowing your usual colour choices, Chaton, this is gonna be a _cat_ astrophe,” Marinette tried to deadpan but the twitch of a grin betrayed her. 

Needless to say, Adrien was almost in stitches from laughter in a matter of seconds. It was beyond Félix _why_ his cousin found puns this hilarious, but he had definitely found a friend for life in that department with Claude. The two of them teaching each other French and English puns respectively had been one of the more painful parts of his friends’ Paris visits in the last few months.

“I doubt that you two would ever set foot in here if I’d choose neon green, right?”

“Right,” Marinette and Félix both said at the same time, making Adrien snicker once more.

“As a wall colour?” Félix then asked, eying his cousin suspiciously.

Adrien grinned. “As the ceiling colour! The walls will be black.”

“Nope! I refuse to let Hammy live in such a nightmare! He’ll get his own cage and move to Félix’s room!” Marinette declared.

“He will absolutely _not!_ Unlike you two, I’m a light sleeper,” Félix protested.

“Then Hammy will just get an own room!” Marinette insisted. “With as big a cage as they have, Multi could move with him and you’d have a hamster room.”

Ah, yes. The hamsters.

As soon as Rose had made the suggestion of an emotional support pet, _nothing_ had been able to dissuade Adrien that a _hamster_ would be the perfect choice. He had also, entirely on his own and without her input, decided that Marinette was in dire need of an emotional support pet as well—not that she had protested much when he had presented his plan to her. However, since she lived in a bakery and pets would violate their health regulations, he had volunteered to take care of her hamster as well and that she could visit however often she liked.

It had been an emotional afternoon when they had gone to the pet store and Marinette had seen a silver hamster that truly _did_ look a lot like dream-Hammy. Adrien had chosen a fully grey sister of his and had, after lots of puppy eyes and begging, named her _Multimouse_. The story about _why_ was something Félix had learned later that day when they had assembled the hamster cage while the two hamsters merrily caused havok solely by getting stuck under various pieces of furniture with their hamster balls.

“Seriously though, do you have any ideas for the room yet?” Marinette asked, a smile still stretching her face.

Adrien shrugged. “Nope. I’ll trust your input on the colours but I guess we’ll just have to go to Ikea and I’ll pick out whatever I like.”

“That sounds doable. We’ll get to it as soon as you two decide on a colour scheme,” Félix said.

His cousin suddenly grinned. “You know what? Now that father can’t tell me what to do anymore, I can even plaster my door with stickers and posters!”

They all grinned at the inside joke before swiftly moving on to discussing colour choices and furniture items.

Speaking of doors though…

While it had become rare for them to visit the corridor—only weekly ventures to visit Claude, Allegra and Allen in Claude’s dream and the occasional dreamwalking to get out of a nightmare were ever reason enough to leave their dreams anymore—ever since the night where they trapped Lila in his father’s dream, neither Marinette’s door nor his door had moved even an inch. They stayed across from each other while all the other doors still wildly switched their places. Adrien had voiced his soulmate theory to them more than once but neither of them quite believed in that kind of concept. 

At the end of the day, neither of them knew what it meant. Then again, the dream doors had always been a mystery, hadn’t they? This was just one more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that I actually managed to do it! I updated every single day of this month, despite some people telling me that I wouldn't be able to do it and despite my own stress, desperation and even occasional breakdowns about it. I doubted the story more than once during this month, but your comments always helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel and push on! A special thanks goes out to [SilverOceanJackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverOceanJackson) for listening to my rambles and betaing every chapter without fail, even when I delivered them embarrassingly late (especially these last few ones). I really don't know what I would have done without you and you kept me sane during all of this! ❤️
> 
> That said, I also learned a lot through writing this story. My original estimated word count was around 50k-60k, just enough for NaNoWriMo, but in the end I wrote 85k in _2 months_. This is an insanity that I absolutely do _not_ recommend to anyone who wants to keep their wits. I got close to a burnout when my chapter buffer started to shrink in these last few weeks and even this very chapter has only been written _today_. One writing block and I'd have been screwed! So yeah, needless to say, I won't ever do this again, as the stress isn't worth it. Still, it was an interesting challenge to combine a list of seemingly random prompts and try to make a continuous story out of them centred on one sole dynamic. I know I failed on the last part as the love square kinda snuck their way into the story at the end there, but I think I still involved Felinette enough in a centre piece role for it to count.
> 
> This is also the very first story I have _ever_ finished in my entire life! It's an amazing achievement, especially as I won NaNoWriMo this year thanks to it and I'm extremely proud of myself for this. One more thing off my bucket list. ❤️
> 
> Last but not least, let me thank Hammy for being an adorable floof orb and for inspiring one of the best things in this story: giving Marinette and Adrien their long-desired hamsters! 🐹
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! 🚪

**Author's Note:**

> Let's also give a round of applause to the amazing people who helped me beat this story into shape! 👏 [Katiechat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladykateofledfordpark/pseuds/Katiechat), [SilverOceanJackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverOceanJackson), [MiraculousKittyKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousKittyKat), [awildcapricorgihasappeared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awildcapricorgihasappeared), [Mavicah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mavicah) and turtle.3! I would have never found any of them without the Miraculous Fanworks discord server, which is full of amazingly friendly and welcoming people ~~despite its at first intimidating size~~! ❤️ If you want to meet some amazingly kind people and make friends with fellow Miraculous Ladybug fans, then I recommend you to [join the server](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)! I promise, you won't regret it! c:


End file.
